Summer Nights in Space
by sisirongana
Summary: Instead of galactic peril and the rush to save Earth, there's homework and detention. But Miranda's still a cheerleader, Liara's still a nerd, and Shepard's still a flirt. High school AU. Tentative FShepard/Miranda... if Liara can keep it in her pants.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: I went back and changed a few things. Upon writing the second chapter, I realized things sounded a bit better in past tense instead of present. Additionally, I'd like to thank **BancsBubble **for all things Australian and **Mm-Burnt-Toast-mM** for being my livejournal/moral support. And thanks to you guys of course, for reading (and reviewing, hopefully?)_

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><p>1.<p>

She was late, but that wasn't anything new. Usually she wouldn't have cared, but barging into her first class on her first day at a new school was probably not going to win her any brownie points, especially with her track record of five different high school expulsions under her belt.

It turned out she was right, because as she tried to open the door as quietly as she could, the old hinges creaked and 27 pairs of eyes swiveled from the teacher to focus on her. The teacher didn't look too happy.

"Sorry," she mumbled, not in the least bit honest. "I, uh…just transferred." She handed evidence of her schedule over to the teacher, who eyed her suspiciously.

"I see," he said coldly. "I'm Mr. Udina. Don't be late again…" he paused, looking down at the paper to catch her name with squinted eyes. "…Darcy…Shipyard."

She rolled her eyes internally. "Darby Shepard," she corrected, enunciating.

Mr. Udina sniffed and raised an eyebrow, apparently his version of a polite 'fuck you'. "Ah, yes. _Darby_. Well. It appears the only seat open is next to Miss Lawson." He gestured vaguely towards the front corner of the room, disgustingly close to the teacher's desk. "Miranda, will you please raise your hand?"

A supremely gorgeous dark-haired girl raised her hand in response, looking terribly bored with everything around her. Darby shrugged mentally; she could've had worse seat buddies, she supposed. Darby headed over obediently and settled into her desk next to Miranda as Udina got back to whatever boring lecture she walked in on.

"Hey," she whispered in greeting, smiling a little. It wouldn't hurt to make a friend. A really hot friend at that.

Cool blue eyes regarded her blankly before turninga way in disinterest. "Don't," the girl said, her voice accented. Australian. Even hotter, Darby thought.

"Don't what?"

The girl huffed a little. "Don't even bother. I'm not in need of any more friends," Miranda said frostily before turning to face the chalkboard with blatant apathy.

Did Darby say she was hot? She meant cold. Frosty. A Grade-A, stone cold bitch.

Darby blinked, then frowned. "To say 'more' would be to imply that you already have some, and with that attitude, I sincerely doubt that. Christ." Miranda's back noticeably stiffened, going ramrod straight.

"What did you just say?"

"You lack decent manners _and_ the ability to hear?" Darby retorted.

There was a low chuckle a few seats back, appreciative and thoroughly amused. "Ooh. This'll be good."

"Jacqueline?" Udina snapped, suddenly looking away from the board. "Do you have something to say?"

The girl with the shaved head and tons of tattoos, apparently the one who had laughed, threw the teacher a baleful look. "It's Jack," she growled. "And I'd say 'screw you' but I wouldn't wanna add another day to my year-long afterschool detention sentence, now would I?"

Udina turned red and floundered for a bit. "I'll be speaking to Principal Anderson about this," he threatened.

"Ooh. Goody," came the disinterested reply.

Darby had to laugh at the entire exchange, but she kept it to a quiet snort. She glanced over at Miranda, who was apparently still trying to freeze her out with a glare, when suddenly she felt a ball of paper smack the back of her head. "Wha-?" she mumbled, looking around for the offending shooter. Her gaze landed on Jack, who smirked at her and gave her a thumbs-up, jerking her head at Miranda.

Darby merely grinned at the recognition, and mimed brushing some dirt off of her shoulder.

.

.

.

It was a few hours later, and Darby knew that she was a little early. She loitered in the parking lot, looking for Jack and dodging the waves of students eager to leave, until one of the stragglers accidentally ran into her. The girl – asari, actually – blushed a deep, deep blue as she scrambled to pick up all of her fallen books.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, I should've-" she stammered. It was kind of cute.

"That's all right," Darby assured her, bending down to help. "I shouldn't have been in the way. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I—"

"Liara?" They both turned towards the source of the shout, and Darby's eyes landed on an approaching quarian girl decked out in purple. "Keelah, there you are. I've been looking all over for you. I had to finish up my project in workshop, but I-oh, hello," she paused, finally noticing Darby's presence.

"Tali," The asari – Liara, apparently – greeted a bit nervously, balancing the rest of her books in her arms. "This is…" she frowned, hesitating. "Umm…"

"Darby, right?" Tali interrupted, snapping her fingers in recognition.

"Yeah," said Darby, rubbing the back of her neck. "How'd you know?"

"I've got Udina with you fourth period. I didn't want to get in trouble so I didn't say anything then, but what you did with Miranda…that was kind of funny. And cool," she admitted. "Nobody ever really stands up to her like that." Wait, Darby thought. Was the quarian girl…blushing? Damn those inscrutable masks. "I-I'm Tali, by the way."

"My name is Liara," the asari offered, albeit belatedly.

"Good to meet you both, "Darby said. "I can't say I've had the friendliest welcome to this school otherwise."

"Udina's a little bosh'tet," Tali griped. "But Principal Anderson is pretty nice once you get to know him, and he puts Udina in his place a lot."

"Hmm," Darby murmured thoughtfully. "Any other tips or tricks you might wanna teach me?" If it came off a little flirtatious, Darby couldn't complain. The other girls' reactions were kind of cute.

Liara blinked, a little flustered, and Tali kind of giggled to herself. "I-" the asari began, until a loud, brash voice interrupted them.

"Shepard!" Jack called out, standing next to a ridiculously badass looking motorcycle. She lit a cigarette and impatiently waved Darby over.

"Oh," said Darby, looking regretful. "I should probably go…"

"Be careful with her," Tali warned out of the blue. "She's a little…"

"…Much," Liara finished. It was clear that wasn't the word Tali was looking for. "It was nice to meet you, Darby."

Her grin was broad and genuine. "My pleasure," she drawled. "So Tali, I'll see you in fourth period tomorrow?" The quarian nodded, and Darby caught Liara's eye once more. "Maybe I'll bump into you again. Maybe not when you've got so many books in hand," she smiled. "But hopefully sometime soon."

"Uh. I…yes."

Only when Darby disappeared off into the distance, presumably to catch up with Jack, did Liara find her voice again. "Goddess," she mumbled, embarrassed and confused all at once. She pressed a hand to her forehead.

"I agree," Tali said sagely.

.

.

.

"Okay, I don't even know how you can mess a formation this easily," Miranda snarled at a nearby team member. "We did this routine all this past summer. You should be perfect!"

"Sorry, Captain," the girl said, dying of shame and embarrassment if the red on her cheeks was any indication.

"Don't be apologetic," Miranda said, frowning. "Just be…" she flailed a hand, searching for the right word. "_Better._" She bounced on her heels, impatient but aware that they weren't going to get anywhere when the squad was this stressed out. "Take ten," she commanded. "And when you all get back, show me something that will _not_ get us laughed out of Regionals."

There was a mass grumbling and shuffling as the cheerleading squad dissembled, but Miranda blatantly ignored the murmurs of discontent and walked off towards the bleachers to begin her own stretches in order to work the tension out of her muscles. She was in the middle of bending over to do her hamstring stretches when she heard an interested murmur of approval. It was one that was all too familiar that brought an equally familiar curl of disgust to her lip.

"Hmm. Sneaking out of practice to watch the head cheerleader get all warmed up," Jacob leered. "Heavy risk, but the-"

Miranda huffed as she abruptly slammed her leg back to the ground, standing evenly on both feet with arms akimbo. "Seriously, Jacob?"

He shrugged, the leer still quite obvious beyond the barrier of his football helmet. "Just sayin'."

"Yes, well," she bit out, "There's no need to say anything."

"Oh come on, Miranda, don't be like that," Jacob practically whined. It grated on her ears, and she pulled even tighter on her ponytail out of frustration as well as to ensure not a hair was out of place.

"I hate it when you do that," she seethed. "Tell me how to be or what to be or…or what-have-you." Her accent always became more noticeably pronounced when she was angry, a fact that Jacob would've found sexy if she weren't glaring at him with murderous intent. "You're so bloody predictable. Just go wander off and leap onto sweaty men and chase after balls, as you do."

"It's called _tackling_, Miranda. Tackling. It's football."

"Football isn't a real sport," she said dismissively, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, like _cheerleading_ is?" Jacob challenged.

Defensively, Miranda straightened and looked at him evenly. "Cheerleading requires balance, dexterity, and flexibility. You know, actual athleticism? It's not some grunting pantomime of testosterone and masculinity," she retorted, "or the veritable font of homoeroticism that your silly game is." Looking rather bored, she sighed irritably. "Now what part of 'We're taking a break that's the permanent sort' do you not understand, Jacob?"

Finally, that normally cool exterior of Jacob's shattered, and he noticeably bristled. "Fine," he growled. "I…Well, I didn't need you anyway."

"Right," Miranda called out in a drawl as he returned to the football team, tail between his legs. "Of course you don't. I'm sure your right hand has missed you!"

.

.

.

Sucking on a tooth, Jack eyed her from across the table. "I saw your ink, Shepard. Didn't think you were the gang-banger type."

Darby laughed, touching her fingertips to the inside of her wrist in a subconscious gesture, as though she could feel the ink beneath her skin. "No banging involved," she said. "Ganging and the like, however, yes."

"Tenth Street Reds, right?" Jack asked, watching Darby's expressions carefully.

"Uh-huh," Darby replied, eyes focused on her cards. "For a little while. Wasn't really my thing, so I… quit."

Snorting, Jack tossed a few chips onto the pile with ease. "Unless they've changed drastically since I last ran into them, I'm pretty fucking sure you don't just quit a gang, especially one like the Reds. Who'd you blow?" Her grin turned sly. "Better yet, who'd you kill?"

"Gross," Darby said, making a face. "Nobody. Why did you look more turned on when asking about killing rather than blowing?" She shook her head. "Never mind, don't answer that. Anyway, can't a girl keep her secrets?" asked Darby.

"Not at this shit-hole of a school," Jack muttered. "Especially the way that fucking cheerleader Miranda rules it." She heaved an impatient sigh, tapping her fingers on the table in a sharp staccato. "Are you gonna make a fucking move or what?"

Darby bit her lip. "I dunno. I wanted to, but she seems kind of—"

Rearing back in her seat, Jack squawked. "Ew, what the fuck? I was talking about the game!" She gesticulated wildly at the table in front of them, laden with poker chips and well-used cards.

"…Oh," Darby blushed. "That."

Jack still had that absolutely disgusted expression on her face. "I can't believe-_seriously?_You like _her_? The Rack from the Outback? The Ass-Wonder from Down Under?"

"Well, look at her!" Darby protested. "She's like, fucking perfect or something. No one should look that good. No one's ass should be that amazing. It occupies its own solar system, for shit's sake."

Jack pretended to projectile vomit. "Yeah, well, I heard that shit isn't all natural anyway. Plus she's a huge bitch."

Darby squinted. "You kind of are too."

Flaring her biotics, Jack held a hand up. "Yeah, but at least I'm a badass. She's just a fucking teacher's pet." She huffed, extinguishing the blue glow of her powers. "Besides, I'm pretty sure she's blowing the football captain."

"Seriously, what is it with you and blowjobs?" Darby frowned. "Wait, never mind. Don't answer that either." Grimacing, Darby fiddled with the cards in her hand. "And you mean that boring guy on steroids? Great image, thanks."

"Welcome."

Sighing, Darby shrugged. "Well, we all have our little flaws. Hers just happens to be her heterosexual tendencies."

"Right," Jack drawled. "Tendencies. Anyway, fucking making a move or what?" she growled, gesturing towards the table.

Still thinking of Miranda, Darby gave a wolfish grin. "Yes," she answered, before smugly laying down her cards face up for Jack to see. "Oh. And straight flush."

"Fuck!"

.

.

.

"Need help?" Darby offered, leaning against the wall with arms crossed.

Miranda stapled the next poster onto the board with more force than necessary. "No," she ground out. "I think I'm perfectly capable of adhering a piece of paper to a wall with a stapler."

As soon as the words left her mouth, however, an asari-shaped blur rushed past the two of them, accidentally knocking Miranda's papers out of her hand and sending leaflets flying all over the hallway.

"Goddess, I'm so sorry," Liara muttered frantically, scrambling to pick up both her and Miranda's papers.

Watching in amusement, Darby remained against the wall, still leaning but this time with a particularly smug expression.

"A little help?" Miranda snapped at Darby. The smug look on her face turned into a leer when Miranda bent down to pick up some more of the mess.

Quirking an eyebrow, Darby shrugged but stooped to help after admiring the view for a moment, noticeably only picking up Liara's papers. "You said you were perfectly capable," she said to a scowling Miranda. To Liara, she grinned charmingly. "We've got to stop meeting like this, hmm?"

"Um," Liara blushed, the picture of eloquence.

"Hey," Darby said in surprise, looking at the flyers Liara had dropped. "You're running for class president too? So is Miranda."

"Y-yes," Liara mumbled. "I just finished my flyers and was rushing to put them up before school was out."

"Hot off the press," Darby said. "Well. Is there anyone else running?"

Standing up briskly, Miranda huffed. "Not as of right now. But the candidacy is open to anyone for the next three days before the elections start. Not that it's of any significance to you," she hissed.

"Are you going to run, Darby? I…I think you would make an interesting class president," Liara said.

Miranda snorted to herself, still picking up her papers with vehemence.

"Against such fine candidates like Miss Lawson and yourself?" Darby teased, delighting in Liara's flush and Miranda's deepening scowl. "I wouldn't stand a chance."

"You're right. You wouldn't," Miranda said, voice curt.

Darby hummed, blissfully ignorant. "On that note, I should probably get going." She waggled her fingers at both women before sauntering away, stepping on a flyer that Miranda failed to pick up with particular relish.

.

.

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"-Your project will be due the following week. It is to include not only the full history of the alien council, but the complete biographies on each current serving member, as well as-" Udina sighed irritably. "_Yes,_ Miss Chambers?"

"May we choose our partners?" Kelly asked, furtively looking at the back of Darby's head.

Udina sniffed. "For the past five years, I have never allowed students to choose their own partners. It works out best for everyone that way." He clapped his hands. "Now, as for your assignments…"

"That's too bad we can't choose," Darby whispered, grinning as Miranda resolutely kept her eyes on the chalkboard ahead. "I'd pick you."

"Really," Miranda asked drolly. "Because I was thinking quite the opposite."

"Touché."

"—Tali, you're with Kenneth," Udina droned.

"What exactly is your problem, Shepard?"

"You can call me Darby if you want."

"-Chambers, you're with Hathaway-"

"I won't be doing that, _Shepard._"

"-Grunt, pair up with Jack-"

"I reiterate: that's too bad."

"Yes, well. You seem to be plagued with misfortune. What a pity."

"Hmm, I dunno. I got to be seat buddies with you. Seems like I'm in the habit of…getting lucky, wouldn't you say?"

"_No_."

"—Darcy, you're with Miranda-"

The grin that lit up Darby's face brought the utmost misery to Miranda's, the devastation and horror marring her perfect features. "Guess my luck has changed. I suppose you can call me Darcy instead, if you like."

Miranda snapped her pencil in half.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Hey, all! If you haven't noticed, I made a few changes to this story, so re-reading chapter 1 might help as it's gotten an overhaul. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. I'd love to hear your feedback: your reviews either crack me up or give me warm fuzzies, especially those people who don't have accounts and still leave me reviews. And considering this is just a fun little piece written spur of the moment, any ideas you guys have are totally welcome. :)

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><p>2.<p>

"Oh, man, when it was just the two of you left and Miranda thought she had you…for a second I thought we were going to lose," Ashley Williams admitted. "But then when she let that ball loose and you just fucking _caught__it_and nailed her right back," she laughed. "Damn… The look on her face. I'd pay Coach Wrex to put me on your dodgeball team again, _Captain_."

Darby laughed along with her, although the natural scrunching of her eyes caused the bruise around her left eye to hurt. "Yeah, it was pretty fun, wasn't it? Could've done without that shiner she gave me in the first round though."

Ashley frowned. "As sweet as I usually find dodgeball headshots, that did look particularly painful. But at least I was able to tag you back in later."

"Your arm is a fucking cannon," Darby agreed. "Hope I'm not against you next time."

"True," Ashley said. "I'd hate to have to kick your ass, Shepard."

"Weird, because I'd love to see you try." Spying Kaidan down the hall, Darby waved. "I think your nerdy boyfriend is waiting for you."

"Hey," Ashley protested, swatting Darby with her gym bag. "Just because he opted out of gym to take an extra lab doesn't mean he's a…oh Christ, I can't even finish that sentence with a straight face. He is a total nerd, isn't he?" She shrugged. "Eh. He's got a great ass."

"Ew," Darby said, making a face. "On that lovely, far-too-revealing note…I'll see you next gym period, yeah?"

"Sure. Oh, and don't look now, but I think our favorite Ice Queen is approaching. Later, Darby."

As soon as Ashley left to join Kaidan, Darby made sure to look particularly pathetic when Miranda neared. "Miranda, is that you?" she asked in a weak voice, clutching at her black eye and slumping against the wall. "I feel so faint. I can barely see. God, everything is going dark…"

"Perhaps it is because you are _covering__your__eye_ that you can't see out of it?" Miranda snapped. "I didn't hit you that hard. And it was an accident."

"An accident that has cost me the gift of sight," Darby bemoaned.

"Oh for god's sake," Miranda muttered. "It wasn't that bad!"

Darby removed her hand, revealing the bruise around her eye. To be fair, it really wasn't a terrible black eye, just some minor bruising, but her pathetic wounded expression didn't help matters nor did her theatrics. "Tell me, doctor, will I ever see again?"

"Oh," Miranda said, a little taken aback. "I didn't think I did hit you that hard…" she murmured, sounding surprisingly enough, a little guilty. "I…well," she said defensively, "Dodgeball is an aggressive, physical sport, and—"

Darby ignored her, deciding to take it up a notch and starting to bitch even louder. "The pain is unbearable. I knew you hated me, Miranda, but to stoop to such levels of physical violence…especially with the elections soon…. surely our fellow students wouldn't want to elect a vicious, bloodthirsty tyrant-!"

"_Will__you__stop__that_?" Miranda hissed, rushing forward and planting a hand across Darby's loud mouth. Darby quieted (albeit, only because Miranda's hand muffled any protest) and merely turned watery puppy dog eyes towards Miranda. "I…_fine._I'm…" Miranda actually looked to be in more pain than Darby at this point - "…I suppose I'm…_sorry_…that I hit you in the face with a dodgeball." Her distasteful look of emotional constipation disappeared in the face of her urgency. "Now if you will please stop shouting and being overly dramatic, I'll remove my hand, we can get you some ice for it, and – why are you smiling like that? I can feel you smiling. I do not like it."

Darby stuck her tongue out, effectively and thoroughly licking the palm of Miranda's hand.

She squawked. "I—you—did you?" Miranda spluttered, snatching her hand back and turning pale.

"Uh-huh," Darby grinned, then bolted down the hallway.

Miranda could only stare as she watched the other girl disappear and felt the saliva on her palm slowly dry; for a moment, it was like her brain had short circuited, images of Darby's incorrigible smirk and her disgusting germs and microscopic filth flashing before Miranda's eyes like she was dying. The way everyone was staring at her made her want to, at the very least.

Then those familiar feelings of outrage and disgust kicked in, and the liveliness and vitriol with which Miranda snarled her next words negated any possibility of her being dead:

"That stupid, filthy motherfu-"

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"You did what?" Jack laughed.

"Yeah." Darby grinned, picking at her fingernails.

"I can't tell if you're a genius or mentally five years old."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

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.

Darby whistled a tune as she strolled down the hallway, looking for the chemistry lab. Once she spotted it, she peered in through the window and grinned, finding her quarry hunched over a microscope and furiously scribbling with her free hand.

"Tali said you'd be in here doing exactly that," chuckled Darby as she walked in. Her laughter only grew when Liara let out a surprised squeak, rearing back from the microscope. "She said you'd probably do that too."

"Darby," Liara greeted, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

"Preoccupied?"

"Sometimes I get a little caught up in my work. Tali thinks it's funny to startle me. Supposedly my terror is amusing."

"It kind of is," Darby agreed, sauntering over before leaning against Liara's table with a smile. "It's also kind of cute."

"Oh," Liara blushed herself into silence for a moment. "I…well. Um, was there something you needed?"

"Well," Darby drawled. "Besides a haircut and a new car…maybe. I was wondering if you could maybe help a girl out here."

Inexplicably, Liara felt her cheeks begin to warm. "Oh?" she asked after a loud clearing of her throat.

"This is awkward but…I can't afford to flunk out or get expelled for the sixth time or else I'm getting shipped off to military school. Only way to do that is to pass this next biology exam with flying colors, and when it comes to that science-y stuff, well…I mean, I'm not even smart enough to come up with an appropriate simile for how bad I am at it. Point is, I'm totally mentally deficient."

Liara laughed. "I'm sure that's not the case, Darby. What did you have in mind?"

"Ms. Chakwas said you're one of her top students so…I dunno. I thought maybe you could do me a solid." Rubbing at her neck, Darby shrugged. "If you had time, I mean. You must be pretty busy with running for president and all, so I'd understand if-"

"N-no, I…I think I could make some time," Liara interrupted, smiling a little. "Do you think a few tutoring sessions would help?"

"Actually, I was kind of hoping you would just help me steal the exam answers from her desk."

Liara paled a little. "I'm not sure if…" She noticed Darby's grin, then gave a little embarrassed one of her own. "Oh. You're kidding."

"Uh-huh," Darby said fondly. "I just wanted to see if you were up for it. I don't want to be too much of a bother - I'll let you get back to your human DNA splicing or whatever you're up to over there," she said, waving a hand at the microscope and petri dish.

"But I haven't spliced DNA since—oh. The kidding thing again."

"Yeah, that thing," Darby chuckled, "I gotta run. But thanks. We'll work a schedule out or something soon, okay? Maybe…we could meet up after school today and figure out a timeframe."

Liara nodded. "It's a date," she agreed, until she noticed the smirk on Darby's face. "I...I mean, not like a romantic date. But like an appointment date. Like a…scheduled, agreed-upon time to meet and work together kind of date."

"Right," Darby said. "I'll see you soon. On our date," she teased. As she headed for the door, she tossed one last grin over to the asari who was already beginning to go back to work. "Oh, and Liara? I wouldn't make you work for free. I'm sure I can think of some way to repay you."

Liara nearly dropped her test tube.

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.

.

Darby was in the middle of having a pre-class snooze when a hand slammed down a piece of paper on her desk, startling her.

"Detention," Miranda said, huffing as she slumped into the chair next to Darby. "_Detention.__"_

"Uh," Darby said.

"I have never had detention before in my life," Miranda hissed, "and now, thanks to you, I'm spending this afternoon in it instead of leading cheerleading practice!"

"What did I do?" Darby asked innocently.

"After you licked my hand like a dog, I may or may not have said a curse word right when the school counselor was passing by," grumbled Miranda.

"Ooh, does that mean I'm your bitch?" asked Darby with far too much glee. "And school counselor…you mean that former justicar? She's hot."

"Counselor Samara is a figure of authority and prestige, one that deserves your respect and not your…ogling," Miranda said, affronted. "And you don't even care," Miranda said incredulously. "You don't even care that my academic reputation could be tarnished forever!"

"Dramatic much?" Darby rolled her eyes. "And it's not my fault you have a potty mouth."

"I _do __not,_ you stupid –" Miranda hissed until she noticed Mr. Udina passing them by on his way to his desk. "Asshole," she whispered furiously.

"See?"

"That's it," Miranda threw her hands up in defeat. "I hate you."

"Aw," Darby pouted. "I was hoping we could be bestest friends."

"Because of you I'm forced to spend the rest of my Friday afternoon in silence with a bunch of mouth-breathing delinquents and future criminals," Miranda announced as the bell rang. "I hope you're happy." With that, she tossed Darby one last dirty look before facing straight forward, clearly intending to ignore Darby the rest of the period.

The bright pink detention slip stared back at Darby from Miranda's desk. Darby sighed, irritated at the inexplicable stab of guilt she felt. "I'm… sorry you got detention," she whispered, even though Miranda's eyes remained glued to the chalkboard. "Hey," she brightened. "Would it help if you had someone to keep you company?"

"In detention?" Miranda scoffed. "You're an idiot."

"It might help to have a friendly, familiar face around. Like mine. Plus we'd get to spend even more time together," Darby wheedled.

"I consider your face to be none of those things, and why you insist on pushing me closer to suicide is beyond me."

"So, that's a yes?"

"That's a clear, resounding no. And this is preposterous, considering you don't even have detention."

Darby raised her hand. "Mr. Udina?"

"Yes, Darcy?"

"Fuck you," Darby said brightly.

"W—what did you just say to me?" He spluttered.

"Fuck you and fuck this class," announced Darby as Miranda watched, horrified.

"That's it! Detention. Detention for three days, Darcy!" Udina shouted, outraged.

Darby turned towards Miranda with a smile. "Now I do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: You guys, it's embarrassing how much I suck. Sorry for the long wait. I think you guys know what I was doing (i.e., weeping over everything about ME3 INCLUDING THE ENDINGS, NO BIG DEAL). High school AU makes everything better, y/y? Unbetaed. Thanks for reading!**

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><p><strong>3.<strong>

The last bell of the day sang out loudly as hundreds of teens burst from their classes. Loud, joyous conversations and excited talk about plans for the weekend bombarded Miranda's ears as she marched towards her locker, scowl firmly in place.

"Of all the stupid, idiotic-" she muttered to herself, angrily spinning the combination to her locker. "God," she sighed, frustrated.

"I prefer Darby, but you insist on not calling me that, so I guess 'God' will have to do." The bane of her existence suddenly materialized next to Miranda's locker, that irritating, perpetual grin stretching cross her face like the Cheshire cat's.

Miranda slammed some of her books into her locker with extra force. "Why," she demanded.

Darby's brows furrowed. "Why what? Why am I so charming? Why are you so inexplicably drawn to my presence?" She sighed. "The world may never know."

"Just…ugh," Miranda growled. "I meant why do you insist on irritating me? You know what?" she snapped. "Just go away. It's bad enough I'll be spending detention with you. Do you have to follow me all the way there?"

"But I might get lost," Darby said, eyes widening in a pantomime of innocence. "I'm new here, remember?"

Miranda's hand twitched with the urge to punch her. Like Darby hadn't had practically everyone in school wrapped around her little finger in two days and didn't know the ins and outs of the school already. Miranda rolled her eyes. "That is such bullshit."

"Careful there, Miranda. Don't want to add more time to your sentence," Darby chided.

"Randa!" A voice interrupted the myriad of curses that just burned on Miranda's tongue.

The two girls turned towards the sound of the voice, and a look of distinct alarm appeared on Miranda's face. "Listen," she hissed to Darby. "That," she said, pointing to the approaching girl, "is my little sister. She's a freshman and she's young and naïve. It's bad enough you harass me but I swear to whatever deity you want to believe in, you'd better behave yourself or I will strangle you—" here, her biotics unconsciously flared up – "with my mind."

"Me? Misbehave?" Darby looked offended. "How dare you insinuate that…Wait, would I get punished if I did?" The grin on her face was quickly wiped away by the swift elbow to the gut that Miranda gave her right as her little sister appeared. "Ow."

"Hi, Ori," Miranda said, the usual hard lines of her face softening. Darby couldn't help but notice how much prettier she looked when she smiled. "Don't you have debate practice soon?"

The girl, who had the same dark hair and blue eyes as Miranda did, simply nodded. "I did, but I heard through the grapevine that you got detention. What happened?" she asked, concerned. She noticed Darby, then gave a little wave. "Oh, sorry. You're the new girl, right? I'm Oriana. Randa, why didn't you introduce me to your friend?"

"She's not my—"

"Darby," came the smooth interjection, accompanied by a grin. "And yep, that's me. New girl. How'd you know?"

"We're a big school, but a lot of us have been in the same classes with everyone since first grade. We don't get many transfers. Plus," Oriana added, smiling, "I'm pretty sure it might have something to do with those little stunt shows you put on with that bald chick and her motorcycle after school."

"Ah, just a little after class way to ease stress, I suppose," Darby said easily. Oriana looked utterly fascinated.

Seething, Miranda continued to stuff some books in her locker. "Oriana, we really should—"

"Are you kidding?" Oriana gushed. "That one stunt you did where you rode it on one wheel and flipped off of it…that was so cool!"

A little sheepish, Darby shrugged. "It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it," Darby said. "Just takes some balance. I'm working on getting enough creds to get my own bike. I'd feel bad if I somehow ended up trashing Jack's."

"Oh, I doubt it. You look like you were born riding that thing." Oriana's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, do you think once you get your bike, you could show me how to ri-"

Miranda slammed her locker shut, effectively cutting off that thread of conversation. "Oriana, no."

"Ugh, Randa," the younger girl whined. "You didn't even know what I was going to ask!"

"Yeah, _Randa_," Darby chimed in, smirking when Miranda glared daggers at her.

"I know exactly what you were going to ask, sister of mine. Oriana, I'm sure Darby will be far too busy ruining lives and acting like a child to teach you how to ride a contraption that will only lead to you cracking your skull open."

Blissfully ignoring the comment, Darby shrugged. "Just because that's something that _you_ would probably do, doesn't mean that Oriana's not coordinated enough to do it," Darby said, winking at the younger girl who giggled in response. "Besides, you gotta learn to lighten up. You're such a stick in the mud."

"Oh, trust me, I've been trying to un-stick her for years," Oriana said conspiratorially. Miranda felt like slapping someone, specifically Darby.

"You might need a little help with that," Darby said absently, noting a familiar asari face down the hall. "Be right back."

"No rush," Miranda grumbled to no one.

"I like her," Oriana noted with a smile once Darby disappeared. "She's funny."

Miranda harrumphed. "She's an ass, is what she is. She's quite irritating."

Laughingly, Oriana poked at her sister in the side until she was swatted away. "My big sister, the Grinch of Cerberus High."

Miranda rolled her eyes, giving her a small smile of affection. "Yeah, well, you'd better get a move or you'll be late for practice…Cindy Lou."

"I'm going, I'm going. Geez. Besides, you better get going soon too…wouldn't want to be late to detention. Don't think I'm going to forget that you didn't tell me what you did to get yourself into trouble like this either, big sis."

Sighing, Miranda just shook her head mournfully. "Don't remind me."

Down the hall, Darby's mood was significantly brighter than Miranda's, especially considering she spotted her other new favorite friend.

"Hey, Liara," Darby said after bounding towards the other girl, stopping at her locker.

Liara smiled in greeting, but she maintained a look of concern. "Tali tells me you managed to get detention today."

"Managed implies difficulty," Darby shrugged. "I kind of just told Udina to fuck off and bam, there you go. Instant detention."

"You did what?" Liara asked, blue eyes wide.

Darby scrunched her nose. "Well, it was more of a 'fuck you' than a 'fuck off', but you get the gist of it."

Liara stared. "Why?"

"Long story," sighed Darby. "Yet another addition to my series of poor life decisions. Especially because that means I can't make our date today."

Predictably, Liara blushed. "It wasn't-"

"A date date," Darby added. "I know."

Liara looked a little regretful. "Not that I—"

"Wouldn't want it to be?" Darby asked, grinning.

"Er…"

Darby leaned fully against the locker, smirk firmly in place. "Well, I'm always up for a rain check if you are," she said, voice low.

A tinge of blue stained Liara's cheeks. "S-sure, I—"

"Shepard!" Miranda's angry voice boomed through the hallway down to the two girls.

As if suddenly realizing just how close she was to Liara, Darby took a step backwards and replaced her smirk with an irritated frown. "_What?_"

Bristling at her tone, Miranda scowled. "_I'm_ heading off towards detention. Didn't you _just_ admit to your mental deficiencies and ask for my assistance as to how to get there?"

Darby shook her head. "Charming, isn't she? One day her personality is really going to outweigh her looks." Darby murmured to Liara, whose giggle prompted a scowl on Miranda's face. "Well, I should go. Tell you what, I'll give you my number and then you call me this weekend, let me know when we can meet up, okay?"

Liara nodded. "Here, let me just get my notebook to write it down…"

"No worries," Darby said, grabbing Liara's hand. Liara looked like all the blood vessels in her face were going to burst, she was blushing so hard. Darby merely cradled the asari's hand in her own as she scribbled her number on her palm, sticking her tongue out in concentration. Darby looked up when she finished, soft smile in place. "You okay?" she asked, concerned at the way Liara suddenly didn't seem like she was breathing.

"I'm fine," Liara squeaked, staring at their still conjoined hands. "Um, so when should I…?"

There was a flash of white teeth and a wink. "I told you, no worries," Darby said, practically purring. "You can call me anytime."

.

.

.

"Five seconds later and you would've gotten an extra day of detention," Udina barked as soon as Miranda and Darby arrived at the section of the library cordoned off as detention hall.

Darby sighed melodramatically. "I knew I should've dawdled a bit more. I would so love to spend more time with you, Mr. Udina."

"No one likes a smart aleck, Darcy," he snapped.

"No one likes a douchebag either," Jack piped up as Darby settled into a seat next to her.

"_Jacqueline_,_" _Udina sighed with the utmost exasperation.

"It's _Jack_, godfuckingdamn it," Jack muttered none too quietly.

"Detention! Detention for two more weeks!" screeched Udina, looking like he was two seconds away from stomping his foot in a temper tantrum.

Jack snorted, then leaned over to Darby to whisper, "Is he ever going to realize that infinity plus two is still like, fucking infinity?"

Abandoning Darby immediately, Miranda kept her head down and strode towards the seat furthest away from everyone else, trying to avoid attention. Her attempts, however, were proven futile.

"Thanks for showing me how to get here, Miranda," Darby announced loudly, catching Udina's attention and directing it towards the other girl. Jack merely snorted at the girl's deer-in-the-headlights look.

Udina pinned his eyes on her. "Ah yes. Miss Lawson, I have to say I was quite surprised when I saw your name on the roster," Udina sniffed.

Miranda tried to throttle Darby with her eyes, but instead settled for as dignified a growl as she could make. "First time for everything," she said as politely as possible, teeth gritted as she settled into a seat in the corner furthest away from everyone.

"Not for him," Jack said quietly to Darby. "Rumor has it, Mr. Tightwad's still a virgin."

"Ooh," Darby grimaced. "I'd ponder that if it didn't mean thinking about sexual activity and _Udina_ at the same time."

Jack shuddered. "You're right."

"I can hear you, you know!" Udina shouted, red-faced.

.

.

.

She desperately tried to focus on her English homework, but it suddenly seemed very, very difficult.

It was only an hour, Miranda repeated to herself. A mere thirty-six thousand seconds couldn't stop Miranda Lawson, now could it? It was even shorter than the length of cheerleading practice and physically, far less painful – there was no possibility of a twisted ankle or a backflip gone wrong, or even Kelly fucking Chambers sneezing in the middle of a pyramid and making everyone tumble to the ground like she did that once in ninth grade – Miranda shook her head, trying to clear it. Physically, she could quite obviously handle something worse than sitting still and just breathing for sixty minutes.

Mentally, however… different story.

Miranda blamed the paper airplanes. Especially that first one that smacked her in the back of the head with a pronounced thwack.

More specifically, she blamed Darby who _kept fucking throwing them _as soon as Udina left the room, telling them to "mind themselves" as he "tended to business." (Jack got an extra day of detention when she said it was probably teacher code for taking a shit, but tellingly, Udina just turned red and practically ran out of the room.)

She darted a hand out and snatched the next paper airplane with a deliberate crunch, glaring at Darby in accusation.

She, of course, didn't look guilty, but instead mouthed, "Open it," gesturing to the crumpled paper.

For a moment, Miranda merely scowled at her until Darby continued to gesture towards the paper. Reluctantly, Miranda unfolded the wrinkled mass only to find a messy scrawl with presumably, Darby's phone number and the words, "Can I have yours?"

Miranda frowned and looked up at Darby who was watching her expectantly. With pointed, deliberate strokes, she took her own pen and wrote out in big letters, "I hate you, so no. Stop hitting on me," before crumpling up the note and tossing the paper ball directly at Darby's face.

Relishing in the way it bounced off her nose, Miranda watched as Darby unfolded her note and read it, the scowl growing on her face. Darkly, the other girl scribbled something back and threw the paper at Miranda with force, not even bothering to make it into another plane.

"For the project, you narcissist," was all it said.

Miranda ignored the heat that crept up her neck and instead, held her head high as she wrote down her number and a little note: "No prank calls. For the project ONLY."

The little snort Darby gave as she read Miranda's note was just irritating. The way she grinned as she entered Miranda's number into her phone was what concerned Miranda most.

"Thanks," Darby mouthed, winking, before going back to whispering about probably gross, inappropriate things with Jack. Miranda just huffed, heaved her arms and folded them on her desk and put her head down, hoping the submersion into darkness would make the last three thousand or so seconds go by that much faster.

Nearly ten minutes later, her phone started buzzing madly, startling her with its bright lettering announcing "1 new text message." Cautiously, Miranda glanced around the library for any sign of a teacher, then fished her phone out of her pocket entirely once she was in the clear. She clicked 'open' without a second thought, thinking it was Niket's usual after-school greeting.

Instead, the bold text just said: "So, princess…your place or mine?" Resisting the urge to hiss, Miranda threw a dirty look at Darby, who merely waved with a bright smile. A second later, Miranda's phone buzzed once more in her hand: "…for the project only, of course."

Miranda sighed miserably, slamming her phone shut.

.

.

.

Worrying her bottom lip, Liara stared blankly at the history book in front of her. The black lettering seemed to melt into giant blobs of gibberish, and all Liara could do was try not to glance at the sticky note she had placed on her desk.

Ten numbers. Ten simple digits that compiled into a small sequence that suddenly seemed so very daunting. Liara had copied the numbers from the palm of her hand as soon as she got home, but instead of going over her schedule and determining when she would actually have the time to give Darby lessons, she found herself staring blankly at the numbers, then back to her homework…then back to the numbers.

Liara worked with numbers all the time – pH values and trigonometric calculations and statistical analyses of matrices – numbers were practically her favorite. So why did that ten digit sequence seem so utterly terrifying?

"Liara."

Her mother's voice startled her, and she nearly jumped out of her seat. "Oh, hello, mother. I didn't hear you come in."

Benezia gave her only daughter a warm smile and absently fixed the strap on her yellow dress as she hovered in the doorway. "What's got you frowning like that, Little Wing?" Pushing off the doorjamb, the matriarch approached her daughter's desk to peer over her shoulder. "Ooh, what's this?" she said, grinning and pointing at the sticky note. "Is that a_phone number_? Did my daughter get someone's phone number?" The way Benezia fawned it was like Liara had just gotten engaged.

"Mother!" Liara hissed, snatching it off her desk and shoving it into her pocket. "Don't pry!"

"I'm not prying," Benezia protested, even though her sly smile remained firmly on her face. "But…" she drawled, "Who's Darby?"

Clearly, prying was her mother's version of not prying. Liara focused on a spot on her desk, determined not to blush. "Just…S-she's just a girl I know at school." She ignored the sweat on her palms and the way she stammered.

Benezia looked far too smug, poking at Liara's heated cheek. "Uh-huh. You've never mentioned her before."

"She's new," Liara said quickly, "and she just needed some tutoring. She only started school this week, mother."

"And you got her number already?" Benezia said, impressed. "My little girl is all grown up!" she teased mercilessly. "I'm so proud of you. Should I start calling you Little Heartbreaker, instead, or-?"

"Oh my goddess, mother, if you don't stop-" Liara muttered.

Benezia just laughed and held her hands up in a conciliatory fashion. "Just teasing you, darling. You're so easily riled up."

"_Mother_…" Liara said, exasperated. "If you don't mind, I've got homework to do."

Benezia gave an overly dramatic sigh. "Seems like just yesterday you turned fifty-six. Now look at you."

Liara practically shoved her out the door. "Goodbye, mother! Let me know when dinner's ready."

"Perhaps we should invite your _giiirlfriend_—" her mother drawled from the hallway.

Liara just slammed her door shut, blushing furiously.

.

.

.

"And then she licked my hand, Niket. Let me repeat that in case you didn't get it: She. Licked. My. Hand."

Stifling a laugh, he shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged on the floor instead of sprawled out, making it easier for Miranda to walk around the room and she went about putting her things away.

"I got it, Miri. Like, the first five thousand times you said it," Niket said.

She huffed, sitting on her bed and kicking off her shoes with extra force. "The point is, she's ridiculous and I hate her," Miranda announced, matter-of-fact.

Niket snorted. "You say that about everyone at least twice a day."

She covered tired eyes with her hand. "And of course the universe has conspired against me, and now I have to see her outside of the classroom just to work on Udina's stupid project."

"I don't know," Niket mused, "as annoying as you might find her, people seem to like her." He shrugged. "She might help with getting you votes during the election."

She sat up in a flash, irritation marking her features. "Like I need them!" Miranda said haughtily. "I'm the head cheerleader, for christsakes."

A dark eyebrow rose. "Yeah," drawled Niket, "but it's a democracy, not a cheerocracy."

Miranda harrumphed and flopped back down on her bed, silent.

"Miri," Niket cajoled. "What's wrong? You've dealt with people you didn't like before. Hell, you do that on a daily basis. What's so bad about this one?"

Scowling, Miranda crossed her arms and glared at the ceiling. "Nothing," she grumbled. "It's like she's specifically singling me out. She's nice to everyone else, especially that one asari girl…what's her name, Liara?"

Niket nodded. "Yeah. Liara's nice though. And from what I heard, you weren't exactly nice to Darby when she first showed up in class."

"I'm never nice," Miranda said curtly.

"Well, maybe it just bugs you that she actually stands up to you instead of backing down like everyone else," reasoned Niket. "You know, normal people would kind of respect that."

"You make me sound like a bully," Miranda practically pouted.

"…Well…"

"Niket!" she scowled.

"I wouldn't say bully so much as…headstrong," he said. Miranda's frown lines didn't lessen, and he scooted up to her and patted her on the shoulder. "Look, just don't let her get under your skin, okay? Work on the project as fast as you can and she'll be out of your hair. You've got the election to focus on anyway. You may have the cool kid vote, but Liara's got all of nerd-dom on her side."

Miranda contemplated that for a moment. "I suppose you're right."

"Aren't I always?"

A pillow to the face was his answer.

.

.

.

"Mr. Nihlus?"

The turian teacher looked up from his desk, peering over his glasses. "Yes?"

The student, another turian, poked his head into the classroom for a second. "Is it too late to sign up for the elections?"

"You're cutting it close, but no, it's not too late. Here's the entry packet," Nihlus said, rummaging through his desk and finding the appropriate papers. "Interested in running, are you? What're you looking at: VP, Treasurer, Secretary…?"

"Oh, I like to think big," Saren smiled. "I'm thinking Class President."


	4. Chapter 4

_**AN: Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait. I hope you enjoyed the interview I had with femslash4fans if you listened in, and thanks to all of you for doing so (especially those that called in!). This chapter is essentially a two-parter: the original was way too long and consequently, I'll post this first half now and then the second in the next few days (I PROMISE.) once I finish looking it over. Unbetaed. Constructive criticism or praise unabashedly welcomed.**_

_**Sidenote: Can we PLEASE just talk about the extended cut (and everything else ME/DA related) somewhere? I don't have a tumblr and shudder to think of what it would look like should I attempt it. **_

* * *

><p><strong>4.<strong>

It took six hours, five aborted dials, and one breathing exercise for Liara T'Soni to work up the courage to call Darby the next day.

When the first two rings went unanswered, Liara's heart thumped with a strange combination of both joy and disappointment that she wouldn't have to speak to Darby. Then the line picked up on the third ring, and Liara was pretty sure her heart stopped beating altogether.

"Hello?" Darby's voice was breathless.

"H…hi," Liara offered shyly. "Oh! Um, it's Liara," she added. "Er…T'Soni. From school."

Darby's laugh was as rich over the phone as it was in real life. "As if I could forget you," she said easily. Liara tried not to swallow her tongue. "I was hoping you'd call today," Darby continued. "Sorry if I'm a little out of breath. I was just schooling my little brother in an impromptu wrestling match."

Liara conjured the image of a sweaty Darby a little too easily. "Oh." Clearing her throat, she said, "I didn't know you had a little brother."

"Not biological," Darby replied. "I guess we're both kind of adopted." Liara didn't know what to say in response, and Darby's voice had turned strangely distant. "I mean," Darby said, clearing her throat, "I don't even know why someone would _want_ to adopt James's irritating ass." There was a chuckle from Darby and then a low grumbled response in the background, accompanied by the sounds of a scuffle. "Anyway," Darby said after a moment. "Got any plans for later?"

Liara picked at the corner of her sheets, crossing her legs underneath her on the bed. "Not really. I can meet you at the library later to study…?"

"Oh, um…" Darby hesitated. "About that. Do you think we could maybe scratch that?"

Liara tried not to show her disappointment. "…Sure, Darby."

"Just for tonight," Darby added hastily. "God knows I'll still need your help in bio. I just thought maybe instead …"

"Yes?"

"Kelly Chambers invited me to a party at her house tonight," Darby said, and Liara felt her stomach drop as the rest of Darby's words faded away. Of course Darby would want to go to a party. Of course she would want to go to Kelly's. Darby was much cooler than Liara and who would want to spend their Saturday night getting tutored, and it was just so obvious that Kelly liked Darby, and goddess, why did Liara have to be so awkward about these things—"so…do you?"

Clearly Liara had missed a vital part of the conversation. "Do I what?" she asked dumbly.

"Do you want to come with me?" Darby repeated. "To the party. Tali's going, and a bunch of other people from school will be there, so –"

"Yes," Liara blurted. She was horrified at her eagerness up until Darby chuckled a little into the phone.

"I'm glad," Darby said warmly. She began to ramble off directions to the Chambers's house, offered a ride if Liara needed it, and then started to launch into a story about how Kelly managed to finagle some alcohol for the party. But as charming as the low tones of Darby's voice were, Liara felt her mind drift off and a sense of panic overwhelm her. A party. She was going to a party. Goddess.

The age-old question that had never really plagued Liara as much as it did other girls before was suddenly haunting her like a ghost.

What the hell was she going to wear?

.

.

.

"The black leather one? I'm not going to wear that. I hate that outfit. I hate these parties. They're so bloody stupid," Miranda announced. The invitational text from Kelly alone was stupid enough, what with all its smiley faces and hearts.

Niket laughed into the phone. "Then why do you always go?"

Miranda looked horrified at the prospect of not attending. "It's my _duty _as cheer captain to make an appearance."

Niket clucked, feigning remorse. "It's tough being queen."

"Shut up," Miranda laughed. "Are you coming?"

There was a loud puff of air that crackled into the phone as Niket sighed. "Can't. Got to work tonight."

"Oh, come on."

"Take Ori with you," Niket smiled to himself, already knowing what Miranda's response would be.

"Absolutely not. She has a debate tournament coming up and Lord only knows how much stolen and illegal alcohol will be at this party," Miranda said, appalled at even the mere suggestion. "I'll not have my little sister subjected to dealing with all those drunken idiots."

"You just don't want her to get drunk. Meanwhile, I seem to recall a certain girl throwing up in someone's backyard our freshman year on our way home…"

"Ugh," Miranda rolled her eyes. "Mistake. No question. But that's the point - I don't want her to have to go through that. Besides, it's not like I don't like her drinking. Father lets us have wine at dinner all the time. It's other people I don't trust."

"You? Not trust other people? Wow. Now there's some brand new information," Niket deadpanned.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"Eloquent. So," Niket drawled, "who's going to be there?"

"The usual suspects," Miranda sighed, "and presumably the typical stragglers and party crashers."

"Hmm. Think Kelly invited the new girl?"

"Shepard?" Miranda scoffed, picking absently at a fingernail. "Probably. Chambers can't keep her eyeballs in her head, the way she ogles her. Would it be too much to hope that she wasn't invited?"

"…In this universe, yes."

"Damn it. Tonight's going to be even worse than usual."

"You know, I'm really going to have to meet this girl," Niket said. "I'd love to figure out why she gets under your skin so much."

Miranda's scowl deepened as heat inexplicably crept up her neck. "She doesn't _get under my skin_, Niket, she just…and then she….she's just so—ugh!"

"Oh yeah, that cleared that up perfectly."

"I—"

A screech from upstairs caught Miranda's attention. "There's a party tonight?" Oriana squealed, her voice echoing down the stairwell. "I just got a text from Kelly!"

"Oh my god," Miranda muttered into the phone, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I very explicitly told her not to invite my little sister. I'm so making Kelly do five full twisting layouts in a row on Monday." Holding the phone away from her mouth as to prevent deafening Niket, Miranda shouted upstairs from the couch. "You're not going, Oriana Abigail Lawson, so don't even think about it!"

Niket laughed. "You're a bitch, Miri."

"Now there's some brand new information," Miranda replied, tone as dry as a tinderbox.

.

.

.

She'd never really thought about it before, never really cared. She wasn't invited to parties because her friends never threw them, all of them being so busy with schoolwork and extracurricular activities. It was the natural scheme of things. This sudden onset of nerves due to inevitable social interaction was undeniably foreign – when Liara worried, it was because of pending due dates or failed laboratory experiments, not because of her dancing skills or fashion sense. (Or lack thereof, she thought acidly.)

"Goddess," she muttered, rubbing her brow and staring at the explosion of clothing that had become her room. She was so preoccupied that she barely heard one of the other members of the household enter her room.

"The hell's all this? Did a drunken elcor stumble through your closet, kid?"

"Father," Liara said brightly, turning to find Aethyta at her door. "I hadn't heard you come home."

Aethyta stepped into the room and tugged her daughter into a one-armed embrace, briefly brushing a kiss against the top of her scalp-crest. "Missed you. They're sending me on missions that are apparently in the asshole of the universe, they're so damn far away." Liara swatted at her father, laughing. "Never become an asari commando, kid. Too much work. _Going_ commando, however," she winked, "different story."

"Oh my goddess, how are we even related?" Liara asked, though there was a smile on her face as she shook her head.

Aethyta feigned confusion. "Didn't we already have the sex talk when you were thirty?" Liara just buried her face in her hands, and Aethyta laughed. "Seriously though, what's all this?"

"I'm…attending a party tonight."

"Doesn't explain why your usually immaculate room is suddenly a mess of shit."

"Father, language!" Liara frowned. "I…I'm just deciding on what to wear, is all. I want to look…nice."

"Oh." There was a knowing look in Aethyta's eyes. "Oh, I see."

"See what?"

Aethyta's grin was insufferable. "Trying to catch someone's eye?"

"It isn't like that," Liara said, although there was a telling blush on her face.

"Right. Sure." Aethyta merely patted her daughter's heated cheek. "Don't worry, kid, I'll help you," she said, reaching for the pile of jeans and shirts. "It was my style that initially got Nezzie going all crazy for me, you know."

"….Right."

"No, seriously, do you think I was kidding about going commando? That used to drive your mother _wild_…"

Liara paled. "Not listening, I'm not listening!"

Blissfully, Aethyta ignored her. "All right, kiddo. Let's find you something that'll make the boys and girls go wild. But don't get all crazy and hormonal and start mapping just anyone's DNA, now. I'm too young for grandchildren…"

"Father!"

.

.

.

Darby wasn't shy, but she wasn't particularly dying for the spotlight. Nonetheless, it was hard not making an entrance when your motorcycle was loud enough to wake the dead.

Well, technically Jack's motorcycle, Darby supposed, as she parked the bike and kicked the stand down. Jack had lent her the bike since she didn't feel like going to "a party full of dumb jocks and girls with balloon tits" as she so eloquently put it, and instead opted to hang out downtown with some of her biker friends. Jack's fake ID was probably going to get a lot of use tonight.

Armed with Kelly's enthusiastic invitation, Ashley's reassurance that she wouldn't be alone at the party, and Uncle Zaeed's gruff goodbye ("Don't get pregnant. And don't get anybody pregnant."), Darby had woven throughout the streets of the neighborhood and finally arrived at the Chambers's household.

The group of teenagers on the porch all stared as Darby had roared up the street and parked by the curb. Darby hesitated by the motorcycle, just the slightest bit unnerved by all the attention. Nonetheless, she took a deep breath, took off her helmet and shook out her hair with a slightly clammy hand in order to steel herself.

The loud, thumping bass of whatever crap music was playing practically shook the house's foundation, and only the raucous, drunken laughter of the partygoers could outmatch it. Darby could only see silhouettes and shadows, dancing and writhing in the windows of Kelly's house. Thick with humidity and sweat, the night air hugged her close like a lover. Or, Darby swallowed a little nervously, like someone trying to strangle her.

There was a single dim lamp on the porch, one whose light flickered for a moment.

"Well, now, don't be shy after that kind of entrance, captain," came Ashley's voice from the porch, familiar and soothing. She stepped out into the light, a red plastic cup in hand and a smile on her face. "You made it."

"That I did," Darby nodded, following her up the porch steps. "Where's Kaidan?"

"Stayed home to study," Ashley said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "He's so boring sometimes, I swear."

"Well, let's see if lukewarm beer and awkward dancing can't liven up your night," Darby said.

"Planning on it," Ashley replied with a smirk. "Although the awkward dancing I'll save for you. I've actually got some pretty good moves on the dance floor, captain."

"I really wish I could say the same."

Ashley just laughed. The music was getting louder and louder as they edged closer to the doorway, and already Darby could feel that sticky, gross party-sweat pooling on the back of her neck, the strange euphoric rush of adrenaline as she saw the swaying mass of people, dancing and laughing and so close they were almost one unit. Briefly, Darby wondered at her flash of nerves and questioned how she could ever be afraid of something like this, something exhilarating and exciting. Sure it was a little intimidating at first, but what was life without a little fear?

"You ready for this?" Ash grinned, pausing at the screen door.

"You're kidding, right?" Darby practically kicked the door open with a smirk, following Ashley deep into the throng of teenagers.

.

.

.

Elsewhere, Oriana Lawson sat on her bed, glaring at the list of debate topics her coach had given her and hating everything.

Miranda had already left for the party, merely giving Oriana a quick wave and a warning to finish her homework. It was _Saturday night_, Oriana scowled. Surely Miranda, cheer captain of the best squad in the region and most popular girl in school, knew the significance of Saturday nights for teenagers. Especially for a freshman, who _had_ to make an impression or else fall into the void of lameness or worse, anonymity. But no. Miranda had scolded her for even wanting to go, had warned her that if she snuck out one more time then she'd tell Father.

Father was away for the weekend as always, and while Miranda had promised to stay at the party only for an hour at most, it still wasn't enough. It wasn't fair. Miranda didn't even want to go to this party, and that was all Oriana wanted to do. It seemed like so much fun, and clearly, everyone who was anyone was going. God, Kelly's house was practically down the street. Oriana swore she could hear the music from her house, could feel the bass deep in her bones even from this distance.

"Trust me, it'll just be a bunch of drunken miscreants and unattractive people hitting on you. You don't want to go," Miranda had said, patting her on the head like a child. Oriana frowned at the memory, launching herself off the bed and striding towards her closet with purpose. She loved Miranda, really, but sometimes her big sister could be so irritatingly protective. "You really don't."

Miranda prided herself on always being right. Oriana mused briefly that it was almost a pity that Miranda was so utterly wrong this time.

.

.

.

Time certainly had a way of flying by when there was an abundance of alcohol, Darby mused.

After a round of beer pong she'd expertly dominated and two rounds of chatting endlessly with her new, utterly curious classmates, Darby was forced to take a breather. She was no stranger to underage drinking – she had beenpart of a gang, after all, and she lived with Uncle Zaeed who never went to bed without his nightcap – so she wasn't drunk so much as feeling pleasantly warm. Darby sat down heavily on the stool next to the kitchen counter, right next to her favorite quarian.

"I always wondered how you guys got drunk," she said, nudging Tali's shoulder with her own. The quarian was trying desperately not to slump over in her seat.

"It's…it's very simple," Tali slurred, far more gone than Darby was. "You take the beer, and then you take the—" she hiccupped, "—emergency induction port, and then…then you…put the thing where…more stuff goes in."

Darby snorted. "Emergency induction port?"

"Yes," Tali said sagely, holding the item up in question.

"That's a straw, Tali."

"Emergency. Induction. Straw. Port," she added. "Whatever."

Clearly Tali had had enough. Shaking her head fondly, Darby merely took the cup from her hands and lied, "Let me get you a fresh one. This one's all warm."

"Sureee, Darbly," Tali murmured, burying her face in her arms.

"Darbly?" Darby laughed and poured out the beer in the nearest houseplant. "Guess that's better than Darcy."

"Huh?" Tali mumbled, head buried in her arms.

Something – or rather someone – from the corner of her eye caught Darby's attention. The familiar face was enough to cause a little thrill of excitement curl in her stomach, before the scene itself brought a frown to her face. "I'll be right back," Darby said to Tali.

"Where are you going?"

Darby eyed the two figures standing relatively close in a dark corner, one with arms crossed in annoyance and the other leaning against the wall. A sudden wave of irritation overcame her. "Just going to take out the trash," Darby said.

.

.

.

She was pretty sure she was going to kick Jacob Taylor in the nuts, and it certainly wasn't going to be the first time that she either had the urge or followed through with it.

"I miss you," he blurted drunkenly, leaning against the wall next to her, elbow propped against it. "I said I was sorry," he slurred.

"And I said we were over," Miranda enunciated, shoving him away. "We'd never work out. So stop embarrassing me and go be irritating somewhere else."

"You're really cute when you're angry," Jacob said, clearly on topic.

Miranda huffed. "And you're really stupid when you're, well," she shrugged, "existent."

"Just gi—" he hiccupped, "gimme one more chance."

People were beginning to stare. "I am," Miranda said icily. "I'm giving you one more chance to shut up and leave before I kick you so hard you'll be able to feel your balls in your throat."

"You always were a romantic, Miri, I—" Then Jacob squawked loudly in surprise as a sudden outpouring of lukewarm beer splashed all over him, dousing his shirt and splashing on his shoes.

There was a low chuckle and a familiar tall figure to accompany it. Instead of feeling the usual annoyance at her presence, Miranda bit back an involuntary sigh of relief.

"—oops, would you look at that?" Darby said, not even looking the least bit guilty. "I've gone and spilled my beer accidentally and it landed all over you. Terribly sorry. It's a good thing that shirt was ugly." Darby gave a conspiratorial wink to Miranda.

Miranda couldn't help it. She actually laughed, and then the split second after she realized what she'd done, she looked a bit horrified. The twinkle in Darby's ice blue eyes as well as the self-satisfied smirk on her lips confirmed that she had heard. Miranda went back to her default scowl.

Jacob blinked, drunkenly trying to process everything. He wasn't sure, but he felt that he should be insulted. "I—"

"-should definitely get that in the wash right away," Darby interrupted, sounding very wise and knowledgeable. "You can't go home reeking of beer. I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't be pleased."

"Oh, shit," he said, eyes widening as he looked for a bathroom. "You're right. I'm gonna be in so much trouble…oh, shit. My parents would flip. I'd get kicked off the football team!" he panicked.

Darby feigned an equal amount of fear. "God, no. Not that. Not the football team."

"Then…then I won't get that scholarship, and I won't be able to pay for college…oh my God…" Jacob's terror was escalating by the second, something that amused Miranda to no end. Darby's mischievous grin indicated she felt the same.

"Are you stupid, man?" Darby almost shrieked, "Get out of here and get cleaned up or your life will be over!"

"Shit, you're right," Jacob gave a vigorous nod in affirmation, already clamoring away. "I'm so fucked," he muttered, disappearing into the crowd. Easily enough, the crowd of dancing, drinking, and talking teenagers parted for him as he pushed and stumbled away.

"Thank _God_," Miranda muttered to herself, crossing her arms again.

"I told you, you can just call me Darby," smiled the other girl. "But if you really insist…"

Any potential relief at seeing Darby flew away from Miranda in an instant. "You know what? I'm not sure what's worse," Miranda cut in sharply, "your presence or his. Both of you are equally irritating."

"Why, Miranda," Darby said, putting a hand to her chest in mock hurt. "How you can say such things to me is beyond my understanding."

"With so few brain cells, I'm sure a lot of things are beyond your understanding," retorted Miranda.

"You wound me," Darby pouted.

"Not yet."

Smartly, Darby opted to change the topic of discussion. "Does he bother you like that often?"

"Only all the time," said Miranda dismissively. "I think it's in the job description when you apply for the full-time idiotic ex position."

Darby laughed. "Well. Isn't it weird seeing trash take itself out?" she asked, easily sidling up to Miranda where Jacob had been.

Miranda rolled her eyes. As amusing as Jacob's utter confusion and fear was, _this_ was what she got in exchange: Darby Shepard, in all her toothy, smug self-assuredness at supposedly saving the bloody day. Miranda predictably bristled: she was never going to be anyone's damsel in distress. "You realize I had that under control," she pointed out.

"Of course," Darby agreed. "Threats of rearranging someone's genitals clearly speaks volumes about your levels of control."

Miranda said nothing and glared. She was particularly good at it, especially when her target was Darby Shepard.

"Fine," Darby admitted, "You did have it under control. I just…I got a little…" The taller girl frowned, looking thoughtful enough that it caught Miranda's eye. Upon the scrutiny, she almost seemed to fumble for words. "—I thought it'd be funny," she finished.

"Right," Miranda drawled.

Darby shrugged, all momentary awkwardness gone and irritating cockiness back in place. She waggled her empty plastic cup at Miranda. "Looks like I'm all out, thanks to you."

"I told you, I didn't ask for your help," Miranda frowned.

"True," nodded Darby, "but that doesn't mean you didn't appreciate it. Or think it was amusing." She gave Miranda one of her very best grins.

It was kind of funny, in a juvenile and almost charming sort of way, but— Miranda faltered. Surely she'd had too much to drink already if she was having such ludicrous thoughts. "…Only just," she said, catching herself.

Darby didn't seem to notice. "So," she drawled, dark blue eyes glittering as she lowered her voice, "buy a girl a drink, sailor?" The taller girl leaned closer to Miranda, resting her weight against the wall with her elbow, much like Jacob had.

Unlike with Jacob, however, the action caused Miranda to feel a bolt of…_something_, unidentifiable and strange. Miranda blamed the stifling, stale atmosphere, the presence of far too many bodies in a far too small space, or the shitty beer she was handed at the door finally taking its toll. There were a thousand reasons for her to feel uncomfortable and jumpy and overheated, all of which were _not_ because of Darby Shepard. Not at all.

Inexplicably, she thought of Niket. _I'd love to see why she gets under your skin so much._ Miranda instantly shook her head as if to physically rid her mind of the thought.

"I…the drinks are free," Miranda retorted; the sudden urge to push the other girl away was too great, and Miranda found herself shoving at Darby's solid shoulders. "I'm going home," she announced, her voice disturbingly shaky as she pushed her half-empty cup into Darby's hand. "You can finish this pathetic excuse for a drink if you're so insistent on getting drunk on this piss-water."

"You're too kind," Darby said. "Wait, did you drive here?"

"Walked," said Miranda curtly. "I hesitate to reveal this to you, but I don't live too far away."

The taller girl shrugged. "Get home safe then."

Miranda narrowed her eyes. "What, no witty rejoinder or sarcastic comment? No absurd attempt at flirtation?"

"Not really. I do hope you get home safe." Darby paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Who else will I irritate the shit out of if you get run over or something?"

"And there it is," Miranda sighed irritably, turning to leave.

"Wait a minute, I've got one more," Darby insisted. As though unable to resist, Miranda turned around and crossed her arms, icily staring the other girl down in expectation.

"_What?_" Miranda huffed.

Darby didn't break eye contact with Miranda as she lifted Miranda's cup to her lips, taking a slow sip. After she swallowed, she licked her top lip to rid it of the foam, the movement instinctively causing Miranda's eyes to focus on her mouth.

"Indirect kiss," said Darby, laughing when Miranda turned bright red, gave her the middle finger, and stormed off.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Note: I don't know what happened: one minute I'm just editing the second half of a split chapter and the next, I realize this story got a whole lot longer and more involved than I ever expected it to, and I'm writing a billion more pages. So much for a 'short' random AU, right? Thanks for sticking with me and my unbetaed ass. And thank you for all your feedback. Read and review please, as usual._**

* * *

><p><strong>5.<strong>

"Pardon me," muttered Miranda Lawson as she hurriedly pushed past Liara through the door. She was so far the only familiar face upon arrival, and certainly not the friendliest. Then again, nobody on the face of this planet would call Miranda Lawson 'friendly.'

Swallowing uncomfortably in the relative darkness, Liara T'Soni squirmed past what seemed like thousands of classmates in an effort to actually make it into Kelly's house. That she had made it this far was an accomplishment – she had refused Darby's offer for a ride because she lived in Kelly's neighborhood and preferred to walk. Making it out of her own driveway was an issue all its own, and she had to stop herself from turning back around multiple times.

She had finally made it to the Chambers's household. She'd never been before, but it was hard to get lost in their neighborhood and the sounds of music and laughter made it easy to locate. It took all of her willpower to make it through the door.

Now, squished up against the wall as she desperately searched for a familiar face, Liara wished she were smart enough to realize that it was always awkward showing up to a party alone. She blamed her lack of experience with parties for this gaffe: maybe she shouldn't have come at all, maybe Darby had only invited her out of politeness, and maybe–

"LI-A-RA!" someone shouted from nearby. As Liara turned her head to find the source, she realized with a stifled laugh that it was Tali, waving and walking - well, stumbling really – towards her. "Liara, you made it," Tali said, the smile clear in her voice.

"I did," Liara confirmed. "This is…" she searched the room hesitantly, "…a lot to comprehend."

"What's there to comprehend?" Tali slurred, and if Liara needed any confirmation beyond the quarian's apparent lack of motor skills, her speech definitely proved her intoxication. "It's a party!" she cheered, raising her cup so enthusiastically, some liquid splashed onto her suit. "Oh, damn it."

Liara helpfully took the cup from her and discreetly sniffed it. It smelled nothing like alcohol, so Liara took an experimental sip. Water. "I…don't think this is alcohol, Tali."

"What?" the quarian squawked. "Darbly said she was refilling my cup!"

"So she's here?" Liara blurted.

"Of course she is, everyone—" Tali hiccupped – "everyone's just dying to get to know the new girl. I think she's over there somewhere." After gesturing vaguely, Tali gave Liara a very blatant lookover, her head bobbing up and down. "You look hot."

"I…" Liara looked down at her outfit self-consciously. Liara _felt _hot, but not in the fashionable, attractive sense. If anything she felt overheated, as her nerves were overwhelming her and the crowded room was stifling.

Liara shifted her weight under Tali's gaze. Liara's outfit itself was simple enough, nowhere near as flashy or stylish as the popular crowd's. But the dark tank top that bared delicate, pale blue shoulders, the jeans that were a little bit more snug and lower on her hips than usual…it was just different enough from her typical, more practical lab attire for her to feel out of sorts and just the tiniest bit naked.

For a second, Liara thought she spotted a familiar crop of short, black hair, but soon Tali was tugging at her arm insistently. "Let's get you a drink."

"But…"

"But nothing. Tequila selai!"

.

.

.

Darby's focus on the drinking game derailed when she swore she spotted a flash of blue and freckles.

"Hey," she nudged Ashley, "Have you seen Liara? She said she was coming."

"What?" Ashley said loudly, craning to hear Darby over the din of the crowd.

"I said—"

The cheering from the crowd suddenly grew louder, drawing Darby's attention to the last two competitors: some batarian kid and -

"Oriana?" Darby blurted, watching the freshman chug the last of her beer and clumsily flip it over after two attempts. Over the shouts from the other partygoers, Oriana hadn't heard Darby, and instead, relished in the congratulatory slaps on the back.

Ashley had heard, however, and mistook Darby's surprise for irritated disbelief. "I know, right? I don't know why Kelly would invite a _freshman_. Guess being baby Lawson has its perks."

"Not that." Darby shook her head, frowning. It was peculiar enough seeing Oriana without Miranda – if they were both coming, why had they not shown up together, Darby wondered – but something else niggled in the back of her mind.

If there was one thing Darby Shepard learned in the first few days of knowing her, it was that Miranda Lawson was hot, kind of a bitch, and fiercely overprotective of her little sister. Okay, so maybe that was three things, but math was never her thing, and all Darby knew was -"…I have a feeling Miranda is going to be pissed."

"Is she ever _not_?" Ashley quipped. "Besides, what's it matter to you?"

"Not too sure," answered Darby, "but I think I—"

In what seemed like a nanosecond, Oriana Lawson went from happy and red-faced to queasy and positively green, all of the alcohol suddenly hitting her at once.

Then she threw up all over the floor, rendering the room dead silent.

"-should do something," Darby finished lamely.

.

.

.

Tali'Zorah vas Neema wasn't faring so well either.

"Emergency expulsion port! Emergency expulsion port!" Tali kept shouting as Liara practically manhandled her to the bathroom.

"I don't know what that means," Liara huffed, "but I'm aware of the basic biology of most species, and what over-intoxication usually entails. We're going to the bathroom." Her grip on Tali's arm tightened as she moved them throughout the crowd and to a door that she hoped was a bathroom. Or a room with some sort of container for…whatever Tali was demanding. "Is this the bathroom?" Liara asked a nearby turian, who gave her – or rather, her cleavage – a particularly appreciative look.

"It can be whatever you want it to be, baby," he drawled.

"She's had a bit to drink," Liara said plainly, "and unless you want her to vomit in her suit and dump out her face mask on you, I suggest you give me the right answer."

The turian gulped. "Y-yeah, that's the bathroom, but someone's already—"

"Thank you," Liara retorted, shoving past him and barreling through the door. The sight before her stopped her in her tracks, causing Tali to bump into her from behind.

The girl she'd been looking for all night was suddenly right in front of her, looking sheepish as she held a dark-haired girl's hair for her. The other girl merely clutched at the edge of the toilet, hurling her stomach's contents into the bowl as Darby patted her back with her free hand.

"Um…occupied," Darby said, a little embarrassed despite her surprise.

"Oh," gaped Liara. "I…I didn't realize…"

"Yeah," Darby shrugged. Liara faintly recognized the other girl as Miranda's little sister. "Kid had a little bit too much to drink. I don't think she minds the intrusion though," Darby added as the girl heaved into the toilet once again. "Or that she's even aware of it. Come on in." Liara obeyed, dragging Tali into the bathroom with her and shutting the door.

"Darbly!" Tali chirped from behind Liara, draping a heavy arm over the asari's shoulders.

Darby smiled. "Hey, Tali."

Liara rubbed at the back of her neck. "She might've imbibed a little too," she admitted."

"Yeah. I probably should've cut her off sooner, but when I came across her, she was already—"

"Drunk drunk drunk!" Tali announced helpfully, tugging at Liara.

"-that," Darby finished, shrugging again. "Don't tell me she's going to be sick too," she begged.

"I'm _fiiineeee_."

"So she says," Liara said dryly. "She sounded particularly queasy a few minutes ago."

"How do quarians even throw up?" asked Darby, brows furrowing. "Like…just right in their suits?"

"Emergency expulsion port!" Tali shouted.

"…Is that even a real thing?"

Liara sighed. "I'm not sure. I'm hoping we don't have to find out, but I brought her here just in case."

"Smart of you," Darby complimented as Oriana let out a particularly loud retch. Darby grimaced, then cleared her throat. It was hard having a normal conversation when someone was practically projectile vomiting right next to you. "Um…so," she said loudly. "I looked for you earlier, but it was really crowded."

Tali giggled. "Liara was looking for you too!"

Liara shot her a dirty look, but the quarian was blissfully unaware. "Only to say hi," Liara said shyly to Darby. "And to thank you for the invitation."

Darby gave Liara an apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry. I thought maybe we could hang out without boring school stuff and have fun…but this isn't much of a party, is it?"

"Oh, it's great," Liara lied, once she got over the fact that Darby said she _wanted to hang out with her_. Nobody did that. Well, except Tali, she supposed.

"You're a really bad liar," said Darby, laughing. "But I appreciate the sentiment. You… look nice, by the way," she said, gesturing towards Liara's outfit.

Despite all her efforts to prevent it, heat suffused Liara's face. "Thank you."

"_Oooh,_" Tali crooned, "you're blushing!"

"I am _not_."

"Darbly! Darbly, isn't she blushing?"

"Er…"

"Now you're blushing too!"

"Shepard!" A loud, sudden pounding against the bathroom door startled the girls and prompted a pitiful groan from Oriana. "You still in there with Miranda Jr.?"

"Almost done, Ash!"

Ashley's tone was sharp. "Well, you better get done _now_. The damned cops are coming!"

Liara's heart stopped, Tali just blinked, and Darby sighed.

"Well, shit."

.

.

.

Earlier, Miranda had tried to make as little noise as possible when she came home, hoping not to wake Oriana. The lights were all off in the Lawson household, including Oriana's room. It seemed her little sister had finally gotten enough sense to get her proper rest over the weekend. Silently, Miranda crept into the kitchen.

Sneaking a sip of orange juice straight out of the carton, Miranda had relished the way the tart acidity took the awful taste of cheap beer out of her mouth and quenched her thirst. It was cool and crisp – nothing like the stale alcohol or the stifling atmosphere at that party, only made worse by Darby Shepard.

But Miranda didn't want to think about that. All she wanted was to sleep. After putting the carton back into the fridge, Miranda snuck quietly up the stairs, pausing at Oriana's room and peering in through the dark crack of the door. It was a habit ingrained from childhood: they had no mother, and Henry Lawson was hardly what one could consider 'fatherly.' Miranda had raised Oriana, had looked after her like the mother they didn't have, and that always included checking up on her before bed.

A lumpy mass underneath the pile of blankets and pillows that was Oriana's bed confirmed that her little sister was dead asleep. Despite the long day and the even longer night, Miranda felt her lips quirk in a small, affectionate smile.

"Goodnight, Ori," she whispered into the darkness before shutting the door quietly with a click.

.

.

.

_Click_.

The sound of the line disconnecting was almost soothing.

One 'concerned' phone call from a vigilant citizen about noise violations and potential underage drinking was enough to have the cops out investigating the given address. The address that Kelly Chambers had so very stupidly advertised everywhere to everyone at school.

It was almost too easy, he thought, settling into bed for the night.

Saren Arterius knew it would be a good sleep.

.

.

.

"Fuck," Darby cursed again, rubbing at her brow. "Oriana? Oriana, come on. We have to go, kiddo."

The younger Lawson just groaned into the toilet, and Darby ran a frustrated hand through her hair. She looked more irritated than concerned.

Meanwhile, Liara was pretty sure she was having a heart attack.

"The cops?" she squeaked. "As in _the police_?"

"That's usually what that means, yes," Darby answered.

Liara turned a very pale shade of blue. "Oh, goddess."

"Whoa, easy there," Darby said, standing up and placing a steadying hand on Liara's shoulder. "Can't have you passing out on me too."

"Darby." Liara's hand flew upwards, clutching at the one Darby held on her shoulder. "We could get arrested," she said, voice shrill.

"Ooh, I don't think my father would like that," Tali said, although she didn't sound that concerned.

"_Arrested_," Liara repeated, as though it would change the meaning of the word. "Darby, I've never even had detention, I can't…I can't get arrested!"

"You won't," Darby said firmly. Outside the bathroom door, they could already hear the panicked shuffling and shouts from the other partiers, all of them scattering like roaches in the light. "They're not here yet. We have to get out of here, now."

Liara took a deep breath and nodded, moving to help Tali up off the floor. Darby shook Oriana's shoulder, urging, "Oriana, come on. You have to get up."

"Don't wanna," came the drunken murmur.

"Damn it," Darby frowned. "Liara, can you handle Tali?"

"I can—" Tali hiccupped, "I can handle myself!"

The two other girls ignored her. Liara hesitated, saying, "Yes, but—"

"Help her out of here. I'll take care of Oriana," Darby said. "We'll head downstairs and leave through the garage. I've gotta get Jack's bike out of here too."

"So what should we do?"

"Run," Darby said simply. "Preferably now. The cops are on their way, and we don't know how close they are. Chances are they're either gonna be here any second and will be catching anybody that leaves this place, or they're not in the neighborhood yet. We'll hope it's the latter. If it's the former, then hide out in the bushes in a nearby yard or something so they don't see you, then bolt when you have the chance."

Only a few hours into her first high school party and already she was practically a fugitive on the run from the police. Liara _knew_ she should've never left the house.

"Darby," she said, voice shaky, "I don't know…I don't know if I can do this."

"_I _know you can," Darby encouraged, grunting as she hauled Oriana up off the floor and half-carried her on her shoulder. "You can do it, Liara. Trust me."

"I…" Liara's eyes darted about the room as she worried her bottom lip. Well. She really had no choice, did she? She could picture it now – her mother mourning her only daughter being in prison, and her father being angry but slightly impressed that she ran from the police. Liara just sighed and tried to swallow back her fear, something that Darby's confident smile made just the littlest bit easier. "All right." She grabbed Tali's arm firmly, brow furrowing. "Let's…let's go."

Darby gave her a quick grin. "I knew there had to be a little spice underneath all that sugar."

Liara just ducked her head and hid a smile before opening the door to chaos.

.

.

.

It was supposed to be a relatively normal Saturday night.

Do a little homework before going out, make an appearance at this stupid party, maybe work on her election speech a bit before heading to bed. Miranda Lawson had it all planned out, just like she always did.

What she did not plan on, however, was the insistent pounding and ringing of her doorbell that jolted her awake after she had only been asleep for an hour or so. She had groggily tugged on her robe and stumbled down the steps to the front door, yanking it open. She hadn't known what to expect, really, but the sight that greeted her was definitely on the list of 'top ten things she never _would_ expect to see at 3 am.' (Were she ever be compelled to actually make that list, of course.)

Darby Shepard, of all people, was on her doorstep with a sheepish smile, a tired look, sweat-soaked bangs, and…a very groggy Oriana draped all over her, drunk as a fucking skunk and reeking of beer. The very Oriana she had believed to be deep asleep, safe and sound in her bedroom.

"Hi, Miri!" shouted Oriana, perking up at the sight of her beloved sister.

"Um, hi…" Darby said, grimacing as she shifted Oriana's weight on her shoulder. "A little help?"

"What the _fuck?_" Miranda screeched, shoving at Darby's shoulders and gathering her little sister in her arms. "Oriana, are you—by god, you're bloody wasted."

Leaning on Miranda's shoulder as the other girl hauled her into the living room, Oriana grinned. "Randa. Randa, I won flip cup." She let out a slight grunt as Miranda practically threw her on the couch.

"You just won yourself a year's worth of being grounded," Miranda hissed, picking up a tissue and wiping at the vomit stains on Oriana's shirt. "What in the hell were you thinking? Were you out at a bar, or did you –" Realization struck her like lightning, and Miranda's eyes turned to ice. "Oh my god, you went to Kelly's party. Even though _I specifically told you not to_. How did you…when did you-? Damn it, Ori, I _told you—_"

"But it was so much fun, Miri," Oriana groaned into a pillow, blue eyes bleary and bloodshot. "'Cept I threw up. Like a lot. And then there was a lot of running. Dunno why..."

It was Miranda's turn to groan as Oriana closed her eyes, murmuring nonsensically. "I can't believe this. This was irresponsible and dangerous and - How could you do this, Ori?" she asked, but Oriana was already passed out.

Darby had followed the two girls into the house but refrained from entering the living room. She hovered near the entrance, looking a little uncomfortable. "I think she just wanted to have a little fun," Darby tried to explain. "Not that what she did wasn't bad, it's just –"

Miranda whirled, facing Darby and looking angrier than she'd ever seen her (and that was saying a lot, obviously). "You! You…!"

"Me?" Darby blinked.

She was positively livid. "-Of _course _it's you, dragging her home fucking drunk. It was probably even your idea! Did you convince her to sneak out behind my back? Take her to the party yourself?"

"Hey," Darby said, holding her hands up, "I had no idea - I wouldn't…I didn't—"

Miranda would not hear it. "I told you to stay away from my sister," she hissed. "And you take her to a party and get her drunk!"

"I…" Darby bit the inside of her cheek, unwilling to put the blame entirely on Oriana even though it technically was Oriana's own fault. "Look, it isn't what you think," she said. "I'm sure the kid just wanted to have some fun—"

"Stop calling her that! She isn't a child!" Miranda snapped.

Darby frowned, fed up with being yelled at for no reason. "Then stop treating her like one! She just wanted to go to a party, is that such a fucking crime? Jesus, you act more like her parole officer than her sister."

"Oh, and I'm sure you would know all about those things. You know, since you're a bloody criminal and all," Miranda said, her voice dripping venom.

"That has nothing to do with this!"

"Doesn't it? Oriana's never done anything like this before, and all of a sudden, you show up and she's out breaking the law." Miranda laughed bitterly. "You know, everyone else might think you're so fascinating and edgy, but all you are is a common delinquent and two steps away from being a high school dropout. I doubt you'll be as fascinating when you don't graduate and are flipping our burgers at the end of the year."

Darby clenched her fists. "I think you've said enough."

"Have I?" Miranda retorted, scoffing. "You think you know anything about Oriana? About me?" How dare you judge me," she spat.

Darby sneered. "The same fucking way _you_ judge everyone else around you."

"Get the hell out of my house," seethed Miranda. "If you don't leave within the next five minutes, I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Darby bit out between grated teeth, angrily throwing a cell phone and pocketbook onto a nearby table. "Here. Oriana left these at Kelly's house."

"Just leave, damn it!"

And with a scowl and a slam of the front door, Darby did.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Note: YOU GUYS, I'M SO, SO SORRY. Never again shall I be such a rude, non-updating, bitch of an author. So not lying when I say that the next chapter is already in the works and won't take months to post. I shamefully ask you to excuse any and all errors/typos, as they are probably due to my haste to post this despite the sage advice from my girlfriend. Happy holidays, everyone. Thank you for staying/reading/private messaging me words of encouragement/sticking with this little AU of mine/being you._**

* * *

><p>6.<p>

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Darby Shepard was glaring, barely resisting the urge to set something on fire.

Not that arson was ever really her thing — the only time she set something on fire was a mishap involving microwaved macaroni and lack of adult supervision — but she needed some sort of outlet. Continuing on her angry tirade would simply have to suffice.

"-And then she kicked me out. _Fucking kicked me out, _Jack," Darby raged on. "Like I didn't save Miss Perfect's little sister from getting caught by the cops." She paced angrily, running a frustrated hand through her hair before finally coming to a stop. "Who the fuck does she think she is? And what the fuck does she think she knows about me? Judging me like that, treating me like I was an escaped convict. This is bullshit, Jack, straight up, certified and grade-A bullshit." Darby paused, then shook her head. "No, this is bigger than that. This is like…this is a pile of steaming elcor shit."

Jack blinked, looking confused.

"What?" Darby snapped, exasperated.

"Dude, I just wanted to know what you wanted for lunch."

"…Oh."

Jack could barely resist the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she forced herself to keep polishing her motorcycle, rubbing with extra force. "Listen, this shit — bull or elcor or otherwise — just got way too serious. I thought you went to the party to, I don't know, fucking party?" Jack frowned. "Hell if I know why," she muttered. "…Told you it would suck."

The other girl threw her hands up in defeat. "Well, I'm sorry, I thought it would be more exciting than sitting at home, where my options are limited to listening to Uncle Zaeed tell me for the millionth time why his eye is fucked up, or watching James flex his man-boobs in the mirror all night." Darby grimaced. "Oh yes, completely viable and enticing alternatives."

Jack shot her a look. "Oh, right," she drawled. "So you're saying it had nothing to do with getting to see your two girlfriends, Blueberry Muffin and Tits McAsscheeks?

Darby glowered. "Quit it."

"Just sayin'." Jack held her hands up in a conciliatory manner. "But what's your endgame? You were gonna sleep with them both, and now you're pissed that Wonder Rack isn't buying what you're selling?" Jack shrugged. "Told you, dude, she's just a stuck up little bitch that's taken one too many tumbles off the cheerleading pyramid."

"_You aren't helping_," Darby said between gritted teeth. "And it isn't like that. It's…complicated."

"Whatever," Jack rolled her eyes. "Did you honestly think coming over and talking to _me_ of all people would actually be helpful?" Jack finally abandoned the motorcycle and stood, fishing her pack of smokes out of her pocket. She lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and purposely blowing smoke rings into Darby's face with a grin.

"No." The taller girl grunted and frowned, finally holding her hand out in a silent plea. She'd avoided cigarettes ever since she left the Reds, but desperate times called for desperate measures. "A mere delusion," Darby muttered, taking a drag off their shared cigarette and exhaling with a sigh. She'd have to settle for self-pollution over arson, but the nicotine only provided a modicum of relief. "A burger," Darby concluded, absently watching blue-gray smoke curl and drift away, seemingly taking her anger with it. In its place, all she felt was the same strange disappointment and the incessant churning in her stomach she'd been trying to shake all morning. Her mouth tasted bitter, and she was sure it wasn't entirely due to the smoke.

"Huh?"

"A burger. That's what I want for lunch," Darby elaborated. "If everything else has to be difficult, let's at least keep lunch simple."

"Fair enough," Jack replied, hopping onto her bike. She latched on her helmet and gave her spare to Darby, inching forward on the seat. "Let's grab one from in town. Get on."

Darby brushed the hair out of her eyes and put on her helmet before settling onto the space behind Jack. "I like danger just as much as the next girl, but you drive like a psycho. I'm holding onto you if things get crazy," Darby warned.

Jack snorted. "Just don't get too comfortable or else I'll start to think you want to have sex with me, too."

"Don't flatter yourself, _Jacqueline._"

Jack's only reply was to take off like a rocket, and Darby's yelp of fear drowned under the roar of the engine.

.

.

.

Liara was dutifully working on her campaign speech when her phone vibrated, indicating a welcome interruption. The text message from Darby was simple enough, but it still made her smile.

_You and Tali okay?_

'Okay' was one way to put it, Liara thought, considering she almost had a heart attack last night every time she and Tali heard police sirens on their way home. It also didn't help that Tali kept singing (screeching, really) loudly, even when Liara was trying to sneak Tali into her house without waking the quarian's parents. After she had gotten Tali safely tucked in her own bed, Liara returned home, luckily without issue. Her own parents were already asleep, and all Liara had to do was change into her pajamas and curl up in her bed, exhausted and still slightly concerned the police were going to bust through her door and drag her to prison. (She had dreams that happened — she was arrested and trapped, locked in a vicious blue bubble that kept her immobile, and dream-Darby took so long getting her out, she went delirious. It was weird.)

Thankfully, that didn't happen. Liara had an otherwise perfectly normal night and slept in. She didn't wake until her phone buzzed with a text from Tali in the early afternoon, asking, _Am I dead? Because I feel dead._ Liara was pretty sure dead people couldn't text. The quarian, however, still insisted on a phone call later that night to make sure she didn't expire from her pounding headache over the course of the day and presumably to hear more about her drunken antics.

And now, here Liara was, a few hours later and her phone buzzing once more. Liara paused, reread Darby's message, and quickly calculated how many different ways she could thank Darby without sounding like a blathering idiot. Simple was the safest, she decided, and quickly tapped out her message. _Yeah, thanks to you. :) _The smiley face was a last second addition, one that made her wince and hold her breath in instant and utter regret. Too friendly? Over-assuming? Too — dare she think it? — _flirtatious_? Liara began to sweat. What if Darby got the wrong message? Who did Liara think she was? One underage drinking party and here she was, running from the cops and outright flirting with a former gang member? By the goddess, at this rate, she'd be working in Chora's Den by tomorrow, topless and addicted to red sand. Liara was out of control, she was spiraling, she was —

Liara's phone buzzed again and Darby's words appeared instantly on her screen: _No sweat. :) But hey… bio test on Wed. Can you help me today? If you're not too busy._

She was apparently totally normal, Liara realized, and _such _a head case sometimes. A sigh of relief burst still had her speech to work on, but she supposed that could wait a few hours. Liara swallowed back both her nervousness and excitement, forcing herself to reply. _Of course, _she tapped out with shaky thumbs. Glancing at the clock, she added,_ Come by around four?_

A minute later and, _Thanks, sounds great. Looking forward to it._

Liara hid her blush even though no one was around to see it.

.

.

.

Two hours later, Liara was still blushing, but this time she had the misfortune of being in her father's presence.

"All right, kiddo," Aethyta winked, "don't get anyone pregnant."

"You're terrible," Benezia chided with a frown. Turning to her daughter, she softened her expression and gave her a reassuring pat on her freckled cheek. "Don't listen to your father's teasing, Little Wing. Have a good time and get some studying done."

"That's the point," argued Aethyta. "If she has too much of a good time, we'll end up grandparents."

"_Father,_" Liara groaned, mortified. Perhaps now was a good time to learn how to melt into the floor.

Aethyta blissfully ignored her daughter and shrugged at Benezia. "I don't know about you, honey, but I'm way too young to be a granddaddy."

"Are you calling me old?" the other matriarch narrowed her eyes. "Because I seem to recall your birthday being fifty-two years prior to mine."

"_Seem_ to recall?" Aethyta teased. "See? Your memory is fading already."

Benezia shoved at the other asari, using her biotics for a little extra force. Too much force, if the way the commando had to stop herself from running into the door with a loud grunt was any indication. "Come on, _dearest. _We don't want to be late for our reservation," Benezia ground out.

"Have a good time, guys," Liara said weakly.

"We'll see you in a bit, kiddo." Aethyta yanked the front door open, only to be surprised by a human girl standing on the porch with her arms crossed. "Shit. You scared me, kid."

"Sorry," the girl said, not sounding like she was at all.

The asari commando took in the girl's tattoos and attitude, whistling through her teeth. So this was her daughter's type? "Huh. I guess opposites attract," Aethyta mumbled.

"Uh…you wouldn't happen to be Darby, would you?" Benezia chimed in, looking dubiously over her lover's shoulder. By the Goddess, she hoped not.

The girl snorted and shifted her weight, almost forcing the straps she apparently considered to be a shirt to fall down. Thankfully, she merely adjusted them tighter around her wiry frame, barring any potential…wardrobe malfunctions. "No. That would be that idiot over there," she said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder towards another girl in the driveway who was gingerly and shakily getting off a motorcycle. "I'm Jack."

"Jack?" Liara opened the door wider, revealing herself.

"In the flesh."

"Too much of it, if you asked me," Aethyta muttered under her breath.

"Um…Friend of yours, darling?" Benezia said to her daughter, her tone dangerously light.

"Something like that," Jack piped in. "Anyway, I was just giving Darby a ride over. But I was wondering if I could use your toilet, 'cause I need to piss like an elcor."

"O-of course," blinked Benezia, stepping back with Aethyta to let the girl into the house. Far be it from her to judge her daughter's friends, but — did that girl just _burp in her face_ as she walked by? Goddess. "Um. What…_interesting_…friends you have, Little Wing."

"Hi." A new voice sounded from the door, low and pleasant. "You know, that seems to be a common opinion of Jack. 'Interesting'."

"Hi," Liara said with a shy, relieved smile. She waved the other girl in from the porch, gesturing towards the elder asari. "Come in. I want you to meet my parents. Mother, Father, this is —"

"Darby, I pray," Benezia said, eyeing the girl. The fact that this one was wearing actual clothing was enough for Benezia at this point. The smile and electric blue eyes instead of a frown and a glare didn't hurt either. Not that the other girl was hideous, but at least this one didn't look like a teenage dominatrix biker.

"Yes, ma'am." Darby scratched at the back of her neck. She looked embarrassed for a moment, hesitating and darting her eyes between Aethyta and Benezia. "Um, should I call you two…Mrs. And Mrs. T'Soni, or…?"

"Well—" Liara began. "Not exactly—"

"Like hell you will, kid," Aethyta barked out in laughter, silencing her daughter and making Darby go a little wide-eyed. "Matriarchs don't have surnames. And they certainly wouldn't have surnames from their 'father' like you humans do. Huh," she scoffed. "Patriarchal, anthropocentric bag of di—"

"_Anyway_," Benezia said loudly, clapping a hand over her partner's mouth. "You may call me Benezia. This is Aethyta. Don't mind her."

Aethyta nipped at the other asari's hand like a child, forcing her to let go. "Yup, don't mind me, just Liara's _father_ and all. Yes, even without a penis, someone can be a _father_. Foreign concept to humans, isn't it?"

"Father!" Liara scowled.

"My point exactly!"

A discreet but brutal pinch to her side shut Aethyta up with a yelp. "Really, Darby, dear," the other matriarch said with a kind smile. "Don't mind her. I sincerely and utterly apologize. She isn't _usually_ this big of a jackass." Benezia shoved her partner out the door, shushing her all the way with a murderous glare. "We'll be back in a few hours, Little Wing," she finally called out from the hover car, waving at Darby and Liara with a smile. Aethyta just scowled from the passenger's seat, throwing dirty looks at everyone.

Benezia backed the car out of the driveway, and paused on the road to wave goodbye to Darby and Liara once more. This proved to be her downfall, and Aethyta practically leapt at the opportunity to get the last word. She leaned over to her lover's side, poked her head out of the driver's window, and shouted so that her words echoed throughout the neighborhood, clear as a bell.

"_BAG OF DICKS_!" she finished before she could be stopped. "I was going to say, 'BAG OF DICKS'!" She managed a triumphant smirk before Benezia got to her. There was Benezia's irritated shout, a strange biotic noise, and then they were off, zooming down the road. There was a strange, large orb glowing around the passenger seat, and it took Darby a second for it to register.

"Does your mother always put your father in a stasis bubble when she's acting up?"

"Not always," Liara sighed. "Sometimes she uses Singularity."

.

.

.

After Jack had left — ("Thanks for the bathroom break, Blue. See you fuckers later.") — and a quick lesson on what name to call an asari, Liara led Darby to the living room where she had all of her notes and textbooks piled neatly on the table.

Despite the strange start to their study session, Liara was pleasantly surprised to find that Darby was an excellent pupil. She was smart and caught on quickly, and Liara began to suspect her poor grades had something more to do with her test-taking abilities and attention span. She had caught Darby a few times looking oddly preoccupied with something else, only to shake her head and focus on the biology book in front her once more. Liara understood that for most people, biology wasn't the most interesting of topics, and attributed Darby's occasional lack of attention as genuine disinterest. It was only after they had breezed through four chapters and quizzes that Darby's distraction eventually became distracting itself.

"Now, humans have a double-helical DNA structure composed of nucleotides, which are either purines or pyrimidines in certain base-pairs. The nucleotides differ only in the amount of nitrogenous—" Liara briefly glanced at Darby and blinked. The other girl's attention had clearly drifted once again, as she was blankly staring off into the distance. She hadn't even noticed Liara had stopped until the asari spoke once more. "Are you all right, Darby?"

"Huh?" Snapping out of her haze, Darby shook the scowl off her face. "Yeah, sorry. I'm listening."

The asari gave her a dubious look. "You seem a little…distracted," replied Liara. "Are you all right?" she repeated.

"Yeah…" Darby said, rubbing at her neck. "I'm really sorry. Just kind of zoned out there." Even as she said it, Darby seemed to fade back into her preoccupation.

There was something about the look in her eyes that told Liara that this was more than mere boredom. The furrow in Darby's brow, the way she chewed her lip…it was clear there was something specific Darby was focusing on, something that had nothing to do with her tutoring. "I'd…I'd like to think that we're friends," Liara admitted hesitantly.

That got Darby's attention. "Of course we are, Liara."

Liara ignored the wave of relief and pleasure she felt at those words, trying to school her features into a comforting smile. "Then you must know that I'm always available to talk," she said. "Even if it's not about biology."

Darby smiled, although it didn't reach her normally expressive eyes. "Thank you." She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. "I don't know," she confessed. "I guess…I guess I'm distracted because of last night. I was a little upset earlier." She deliberately neglected to mention the whole ranting and raving at Jack's place earlier this afternoon. (And the thoughts of arson. Arson would be bad.)

"Yes, it was a rather…harrowing experience," Liara commented. "I don't know what I would've done if we were caught."

Darby chuckled. "Well. That part didn't really bother me, to be honest. I was worried about you, Tali, and Oriana, but unfortunately, that wasn't my first time running from the cops." Darby shifted on the couch, rustling the loads of books and papers and drawing her knees up to her chest. To be honest, it was probably at least her sixth. The realization only made her stomach churn more, something it had been doing all morning, even before she and Jack got those shitty cow patties that cook tried to pass as burgers.

"That's not what's bothering you?"

"No. It was something else that happened later, with someone else," Darby said. Miranda's fury was still palpable, as though she were still standing there screaming at Darby and hurling insults like she had a fucking catapult. The judgment and dismissal that came so easily to her lips, the assumption that Darby was nothing more than a criminal with no hope and no future… It wasn't the first time someone had made those assumptions — and Darby was sure it wouldn't be the last — but that didn't lessen the sting.

Was she just brooding? She had brought this upon herself. At least partly, considering it was her choice to be a part of the Reds for so long. It was her choice to do the things they had demanded of her.

All the same, it was her choice to leave. She was trying to leave all of that behind, like how Uncle Zaeed left the Blue Suns. Granted, _unlike_ her uncle, she didn't set fire to her leader's safe house with nothing more than a smirk; witty, bitter last words ("Fry, you son of a bitch!"); and the owner still inside. But the point was, Darby was _trying_. Her past and her reputation was sticking to her like glue, but she was trying to make friends, pass her classes, and not get expelled. Surely the effort had to amount to something, something more than the horrifying question that had been plaguing her endlessly: _What if Miranda was right?_

Darby grimaced. God, that sexy, privileged little _twat_ would have a field day if she knew she'd gotten under her skin. That attractive mouth upturned in an ugly, cold smile of triumph: Darby could see it clear as day. The image made her hesitate, as did her tendency to keep things close to her chest. But she took in Liara's warm, expectant gaze, and felt as though she had no choice but to speak."I…just wonder, sometimes," Darby admitted finally.

"Wonder about what?"

She let out an uneasy breath. "…Do you think you can ever leave your past behind?"

Liara blinked. DNA's chemical makeup was one thing, but deep introspection was another: Liara felt unbelievably lost, both at the abrupt change of subject and the subject itself. She was about to say as much, but the somber, searching expression on the normally light-hearted girl's face is what gave her pause, made her really think about what her answer to the question would be. It was strange, seeing Darby like this. Darby always seemed like she didn't have a care in the world, so confident and sure of herself. Now she was sitting on Liara's couch, looking like she killed someone's varren. "I'm not sure," Liara admitted. "But why would you want to?"

A bitter snort bubbled up, unbidden. Darby gave the other girl a half-shrug."You don't know the half of it."

Of course she had heard the rumors at school: Liara wasn't deaf or _that _socially ignorant. People talked, and especially of late, they talked about Darby Shepard. Not all of the things they said were pleasant, and many of the names a few people called her were less than savory. But when did anybody ever have anything really nice to say about somebody else when they gossiped? Liara had heard her own share of words that cut like knives and left scars that never healed. _Loser. Nerd. Teacher's pet. _And worst of all, _pureblood_.

"What they say about me at school is probably true."

"You don't know that, Darby."

"You don't know that it _isn't_."

A patient smile formed on Liara's lips. Looking at Darby now, forlorn and bitter, Liara felt more self-assured and certain with the other girl than she ever had before. For the first time in their friendship, she was the one that was confident and sure of what she was going to say. "You forget that while we're at the same developmental stage in our lives, I've got a few decades on you in numerical years," Liara explained. "I've seen many things and learned a lot as a result. What is that human saying? 'With age comes wisdom'?"

Darby nodded, but the corner of her mouth curled up in a mischievous smirk that was slowly becoming a familiar sight. "Are you calling me young and stupid?"

Liara hesitated, looking as though she were step away from being utterly horrified. "I—"

"I was kidding," said Darby quickly in order to prevent Liara's oncoming aneurysm.

"Right. Kidding. One thing I've yet to master," Liara admitted, sheepish. She cleared her throat, trying to refocus on her answer. "But," she continued, "I don't think you should run from your past, however awful you might think it is. It's a part of who you are."

"I've done some things I'm not proud of."

"So have I. But your actions don't entirely define you," Liara reasoned. "And who you are is…" Liara paused, searching for the right words. "You're a friend. You're _my_ friend," she finished. "And you're a good person, despite what others may say, or despite what you may think.

Darby hummed, thoughtful. "You think so, huh?"

"I believe it with all of my heart," Liara said. At this, Darby gave her a grin that seemed to erase all evidence of pensive melancholy from her face. Then, Liara added for levity's sake, "_And_ you're a girl who needs to pay attention when I'm discussing her species's biological makeup in order to pass her next exam."

Darby burst into laughter. "You're right, Professor T'Soni."

"You'll get used to it," teased Liara.

"I told you, there's some spice underneath all that sugar," Darby replied. "But you know, you didn't say the whole quote. It's, 'with age comes wisdom, but sometimes age comes alone,'" she finished with a grin. "See? Me Darby. I are smart."

Liara had a brief bout of the giggles. "So it seems."

Suddenly, the wristwatch Darby wore chimed loudly, forcing its owner to glance at it. The time sobered her. "Shit. I'm sorry. I spent all this time sulking and blabbing when we should've been studying." Light blue eyes cast downward in shame. "Sorry for getting all deep on you like that. I know you're busy. I promise I'll focus this time."

Shaking her head, Liara smiled. "Don't worry about it. Really."

"Thank you, though. For listening," Darby said.

"Any time, Darby. I mean it." The sentiment earned her an utterly adorable grin from the other girl.

"The same goes for you, too, you know." At Liara's nod, Darby shifted on the couch, unfurling from her curled position and reaching for the books once more. "I think that's enough philosophical discussion for today, yeah?"

"Well, then," Liara said with purpose, "back to work then?"

"Damn straight. Time to focus," replied Darby, her tone all business. Suddenly, a thought pricked at her. She had wondered all day about whether or not Miranda was right about her and her future… but there was another question that had been plaguing her almost as badly. It simply begged to be asked, and Darby was helpless."Oh, wait. One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Well…I mean…" Darby scratched her head, a strange mix of amusement and utter consternation on her face. "What do you think a bag of dicks even _looks_ like?"

.

.

.

Two hundred beefy, 300-pound football players gathered en masse and stomped onto the field, their cleats tearing up the grass.

She was so, _so _fucked.

They weren't real, of course, but that was the closest, most accurate description she could think of to describe the extent of her headache right now. Her head was the grass, and the excessively-muscled, imaginary assholes were trampling all over it with their cleats.

Oriana Abigail Lawson groaned as she sat up, lifting her head from the couch and immediately clutching a hand to it. Is this what a hangover was? Is this why Miri warned her against excessive drinking? Was it the throbbing headache, the overwhelming nausea, the sudden and abject hatred of light, sound, and her own existence? The ray of sunlight that broke through the window was blindingly bright, searing past her eyelids and probably detaching her retinas. "Oh, god," she muttered. "Oh, god."

"No, just your big sister," Miranda said flatly, drawing Oriana's attention to the nearby ottoman where her sister sat, legs and arms crossed.

"…_Crap_."

Miranda's expression didn't change, although she did lift an eyebrow. "That's one word for it."

"Miri…" Oriana began to whine.

"I don't want to hear it," Miranda interrupted, holding a hand up. "I really don't. Not until you've gotten upstairs and cleaned up, ready to plead your case before me in a presentable manner at a later time, when I'm not absolutely furious." The frown lines on Miranda's face deepened. "I apologize, but the stench of dried vomit and old beer is a little distracting, as is my overwhelming desire to murder you."

"Is it really that bad?" Her big sister always spoke eloquently, but when Miranda was seriously pissed, she became increasingly formal — polite, even — which only made people shit themselves out of fear even more. Oriana groaned again, covering her eyes with her hands. What the hell had happened? She had flashes of playing flip cup and throwing up in the bathroom, someone holding her hair and muttering words of comfort. She vaguely remembered stumbling back home, but the details were fuzzy. Did Miranda not care that her head was going to explode? It was too much to try to remember now: her brain was probably still soaking in all the beer she drank last night, and she could barely even keep her eyes open. God, her mouth was dry. Like the Sahara. Like it was filled with red sand. Like someone had stuffed tampons and cotton balls in her mouth and left them to soak overnight. She was probably delirious with alcohol poisoning and was going to die like this, half-drunk and miserable, and no, she wasn't being overly dramatic. The football players stomped even harder.

"Is what really that bad? Your putrid stench or impending doom?"

"Uh…both?" At her sister's glare, Oriana sighed. "Insult and threaten if you must, but do you have to be so loud when you do it?" The room was spinning so much that if she hurled, she didn't know if it would land on the floor or the ceiling. Needles jabbed at her brain: Oriana knew Miranda probably was speaking at a normal level, but the needles just stabbed harder with every word her sister uttered.

"No," Miranda gave her a cruel smile. "I just like to be." She did, however, leave the ottoman and gingerly stalk over to the couch, crouching onto one knee. Suddenly, she softened her expression into one that spoke of sympathy and understanding. It was the face that Miranda gave her when she was little, when she scraped her knee or spilt some milk, the one that told her everything was going to be all right. Her usually steely eyes seemed to warm, and the lines of her mouth didn't look so harsh. They curled into a small smile, even. The familiar sight brought Oriana a little reassurance. Perhaps her dear sister had had a change of heart? It was unknown to many, but Miranda harbored a soft, squishy center underneath that bitch of an exterior. Surely, Miranda saw the extent of her suffering and couldn't bear it any longer. God, Oriana loved her sister. "Ori?"

"Yeah?" Oriana asked, hopeful.

Miranda leaned in close, brushed a strand of hair out of Oriana's face gently like she did when she was a child, put her lips next to her ear…

…And screamed loud enough to wake the dead.

"GET. UPSTAIRS. NOW!"

.

.

.

God, Oriana hated her sister.

It took all she had not to throw up in the shower. With the way she felt right now, Oriana found that to be an accomplishment. The warm embrace of the water seemed to ease her hangover just the tiniest bit, and it was less difficult for Oriana to crawl back to her room this time, gingerly put on pajamas, and slowly inch back into bed. She curled up, burrowed beneath mountains of blankets. There was a trashcan next to her bed, just as a precaution. The room had finally stopped spinning, but it didn't make her feel any less nauseous, and any form of light was still hurting her eyes. Oriana was still debating whether Miranda had blown out an eardrum or not when her sadist of a sister burst through her door.

"I've brought you some Tylenol," Miranda announced loudly. "And some water."

Oriana groaned, her voice muffled beneath the blankets. "I don't think I could handle—"

"Here," Miranda cut her off as she grabbed the sheets and whipped them off her little sister, quick as lightning. She shoved the glass of water at Oriana, along with the pills. "Take these. I don't care if you throw them up. But rehydrating will ease your headache, even though god knows you deserve it."

"Thank you," Oriana said meekly as she sat up.

"Oh, don't thank me yet. I'm sure you've gathered by now that you're grounded," Miranda said, matter-of-factly.

"For how long?" Oriana asked, grimacing as she put the pills into her dry mouth and forced herself to sip some water. The pills were bitter and felt like golf balls in her mouth. Gulping down the medicine, Oriana slumped back down onto the bed and curled back into the fetal position.

Miranda shrugged and crossed her arms. "Until I say you aren't."

"So, the rest of my life," Oriana concluded miserably.

Miranda shrugged again. It would be infuriating if Oriana weren't so busy dying in her bed. "Secondly, you'll be doing the dishes, taking out the trash, doing the laundry, et cetera, et cetera. No more splitting the chores between us. You're responsible for everything."

"…Okay."

"You'll be doing that for at least a month," Miranda added. "Thirdly, we are not going to talk about last night until I say so."

"But I can explain—"

"Don't care," Miranda interrupted. "Until I say so."

"Randa…" Well. Maybe it was for the best. She couldn't remember shit anyway. She'd probably have to wait until school Monday morning to find out what had happened second-hand.

"And up until then, try to stay out of my sight," advised Miranda. "You know, because of the whole I-might-kill-you-because-I'm-still-pissed thing." The older girl looked at Oriana, as if expecting any further argument. "Have I made myself clear?"

Technically, Miranda was two blurry sister-shaped objects with a penchant for glaring, but Oriana just sighed. "Crystal."


End file.
